


Claimed

by LicieOIC



Series: Alternate Universe Doctor Who Prompted Fic [6]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, BDSM, Blindfolds, Bondage, Double Penetration, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face Slapping, Flogging, Food Porn, Food Sex, Kneeling, Masterbation, Multi, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sex Toys, Spanking, Swearing, Wooden Paddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-16 15:49:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1353058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LicieOIC/pseuds/LicieOIC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rose meets John after she accidentally picks up his suitcase in baggage claim, he makes her a tantalizing proposal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Endelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endelda/gifts).



> Prompted by captaingrahamcr and encouraged to continue by lots of people! I was really surprised how popular this story got! Thank you to everyone who encouraged me and told me they found this story to be very "real," which was my goal in writing it. I wanted to give you a fantasy, but one that was still very realistic.
> 
> Dedicated to Endelda, as a belated birthday gift, since she likes Dom!Doctor. ^_^

Rose sighed as she ambled tiredly toward baggage claim. The plane had been delayed _after_ they’d all gotten on board, so they’d had to sit for an extra forty minutes in the recycled air. She felt grimy, over-warm, and wanted a shower and bed. She stood next to the luggage carousel, almost falling asleep on her feet. When her black bag with the blue trim came around, she grabbed it, letting it fall to the floor with a thunk. She frowned. It seemed like it was heavier, and… She blinked. Was something buzzing on the inside?

All sleepiness left her in an instant as her heart suddenly started hammering in her chest and visions of luggage bombs and terrorists whirled through her mind. She was just about to call for help when someone tapped her on the shoulder, making her jump a mile.

“Whoa, easy,” said the man behind her as she whipped around to face him. He smiled, crinkling the corners of his dark brown eyes, and nodded at the bag at her feet. “I think that might be mine.” He gestured to the bag near his side, and Rose recognized the slightly lighter blue trim. “Are you Rose Tyler? That’s the name on the tag.”

“Yes,” she said, breathlessly. “Sorry, it’s just, um…” She pointed at the bag. “I think there’s something… vibrating? On the inside?”

He laughed. “Oh, so that’s what had you all jumpy.” He made a dismissive gesture. “It’s nothing dangerous, I promise.”

Still slightly suspicious, even if he was rather foxy in his tight brown pin-striped suit, she asked, “Well, what’s in it, then?”

He quirked his left eyebrow at her, smirking. “You really want to know?”

“I think it’s my duty as a concerned citizen.”

He tilted his head over at the row of chairs against the wall. “All right. Just remember, you asked.”

They pulled their almost identical bags over to the seats and he hoisted the buzzing one up, laying it across the arm rests. After glancing over his shoulder to make certain that Rose was the only one watching, he unzipped the bag and flipped open the top.

Rose eyes widened as the scent of leather drifted up to her and her eyes took in the various sex toys and bondage gear neatly arranged inside the suitcase on top of a plastic garment bag. There were several loops of rope, lengths of silk, blindfolds, handcuffs, gags, leather paddles and floggers, a riding crop, a bamboo cane, and many more mainstream toys, including one silver vibrator that was the culprit responsible for her impromptu search.

His long fingers reached out, deftly plucking the vibrator from its nest. He held it in his left hand while his right turned the base. The buzzing stopped. Rose couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Seeing his hand wrapped around the metallic sex toy was doing all sorts of naughty things to her, a rush of adrenaline tied her stomach up in knots. When he looked up and met her eyes with a knowing, heated gaze, she felt a surge of wetness between her legs. She swallowed hard, her throat felt utterly dry.

“Bet you’re glad you didn’t have the security guard open it up,” he said with a teasing smile.

She managed a soft laugh. “Yeah.” She licked her lips and his gaze narrowed to her mouth. She looked down at the toys, but that was just as dangerous as looking at him. “So… these are… really yours?” she asked, with just a bit of squeak in her voice.

“Oh, yes,” he said in a low tone as he placed the vibrator back where it came from.

“Do you… really use all of them?” she found herself asking.

His eyes were incredibly dark as he looked at her, the chocolate color turning nearly black. Rather than answer her right away, he pulled a length of silk from the bag, letting it unravel slowly, sliding it through one hand until he pulled it tight between both. Her breath caught in her throat.

“I not only use them,” he said, “I teach others how to safely do so. That’s why I’m here. I get paid to travel around and give demonstrations. And yes, I enjoy it in my spare time.” He paused. “Why are you here, Rose Tyler?”

The way he said her name made her knees weak. “Work convention for my father’s security firm,” she croaked. “Tomorrow.”

He took her hand and held it palm up, then ran the silk across it. The slow, smooth rasp of the fabric made her eyes flutter shut. He wrapped it around her wrist, pulling it tight for a single moment, then dragged it free. She felt bereft when it was gone. When she opened her eyes again, he was looking at her with keen interest.

“Come with me to my hotel,” he said, suddenly. The silk had disappeared from his hands, but she hadn’t seen it go back into the bag, which he shut and zipped.

“What?” she asked, dumbly. Had he really said what she thought he had? Her head felt stuffed with cotton wool.

He stepped closer, invading her space. Lifting his hand, he ran two fingers along her jaw and pushed her shoulder length blonde hair behind her ear. “Come with me to my hotel,” he said, low and deliberately. “Spend the night with me.” He leaned in, and his breath tickled the sensitive shell of her ear. “Give yourself to me tonight.”

It sounded like a lame pick-up line, but coming from him, it turned her legs to butter, because somehow she knew he meant it. It was mad. She should knee him in the groin and get the hell away from him. Because she didn’t meet sexy strangers with great chestnut colored hair in an airport and agree to have kinky sex with them on a whim. She didn’t. But this man made her want to throw everything she knew and accepted out the window. She wanted him to show her something more than the life she knew.

So, she nodded. And he smiled.

Lifting his bag to the floor, he extended his free hand to her and said, “Follow me.”

She slid her hand into his and he laced their fingers together like two pieces of a puzzle. Together they left baggage claim and went outside, where, to her amazement, a limousine was waiting for him. The driver took charge of their bags as they climbed inside the sleek luxury vehicle. Once she was buckled in, he took her hands in his, stroking the backs with his thumbs.

“Trust me,” he said. “Just for tonight. And if it’s too much at anytime, just say ‘red.’ I know it’s simple, but in the heat of the moment, you could forget a more complicated word. Red for stop, am I understood?”

From the way he said it, she knew he wasn’t asking in condescension, he was making sure she knew she had a way out. He really knew what he was doing. Just that sentence put her more at ease. He wasn’t interested in hurting her. She nodded. “Yes.”

From his pocket, he pulled the length of black silk. Her heartbeat jumped up another notch as he fastened it around her head, covering her eyes.

“Do you have any questions before we begin?” he asked.

“Just one.” She ran her tongue along her bottom lip, excitement surging through her veins. “What’s your name?”

“You may call me the Doctor.”

* * *

The limousine purred through the streets. This man, the Doctor, was sitting so close to her, she could feel the heat from his body, and yet, he didn’t touch her at all. He hadn’t since he’d put the blindfold over her eyes.

“Do not speak unless I ask you a direct question,” he said. Rose nodded. “Have you ever done anything like this before?”

“No,” she said, adding a second later, “Doctor.”

“And yet, you know to address me correctly,” he said and she could hear the smile in his voice. “Curious, then, are you?”

She blushed. “I’ve… read some books.”

“The books are rubbish,” he said. “What I will give you is a real experience. Wellllll… sort of. A real experience doesn’t often include sex unless there is a relationship involved. I plan on making an exception with you. Do you find this agreeable?”

Her blush lingered as her skin started to heat up. She nodded. “Yes, Doctor.” She liked that he was clarifying himself at each step. It showed consideration, since they knew nothing about one another.

“However,” he went on, “I will expect more from you, since you’ve read up on the subject.” She smiled at the teasing tone, then shivered as his voice dropped down low, “You will be punished if I must repeat myself, is that clear?”

“Yes, Doctor,” she said, breathlessly.

“Angle yourself away from me and put your hands at your sides.”

She turned away from him as best she could while wearing the seatbelt and moved her hands from her lap to either side of her hips. She inhaled as his long fingers curled over her shoulders and gently pulled until she was leaning against his chest, her head resting at his clavicle. Slowly, he brought his hands down her arms and back up, caressing her, lulling her.

“Tonight, you are not Rose Tyler, who works for her father’s security firm,” he said, his tone soft and hypnotic. “Tonight, you will give everything to me. Your worries, your responsibilities, your wants, needs, even your name. Those are all mine now. You own nothing that I do not give you. Anything I give you, whether it is pleasure or pain, is a gift. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Doctor,” she said. She might have agreed to about anything right then, with his breath tickling her ear and his hands relaxing her. His soft touches and sexy voice were all the more effective with her eyesight cut off and she suspected that was exactly why he’d done it. The thought of not needing to worry about anything, to leave everything up to him, was exhilarating. It didn’t sound like submission, it sounded like… being free.

“You’re being very good, flower,” he said, warmly. She bit her lip to hide a smile. “Do you find my name for you amusing?”

He’d asked a question, so she replied, honestly, “A little, Doctor.”

“But it is my gift to you,” he said, his hands stilling and coming to rest on her wrists. “I think a punishment is in order for your lack of appreciation. But since most of my tools are currently in the boot, I’ll have to improvise. Keep your hands where they are.”

She whimpered as his hands pulled her shirt free from under the lap belt and slid underneath, tracing along her soft stomach, and higher to cup her breasts through her bra. Her whole body trembled. He’d barely touched her this whole time, and already she was damp and wanting. Her nipples tightened and that seemed to be the reaction he was waiting for, because he rolled them between his fingers and pinched, hard, pulling them away from her body.

She gasped, arching her neck. It hurt, of course, but it sent tingles straight to her core. He released the straining buds and caressed her breasts for a few moments before repeating the action. On the third time, she cried out, biting her lip to stifle the noise. Even with the privacy screen up, which she’d seen it was when they’d gotten in the limo, the driver might still hear her.

But the Doctor said, “Good, flower. I want to hear you. I want to learn what noises you make. They tell me so much about how I’m affecting you.” He pressed a soft kiss to the side of her neck. “Are you wet, flower?”

She felt her face heat up. “Y-yes, Doctor.”

“How much?”

She rubbed her thighs together. She wasn’t sure exactly, her body was mostly concentrating on her sore nipples. “…Some.”

“Undo your jeans, put your fingers between your legs, and find out.”

She tried to move as quickly as she could, but her fingers felt clumsy, slowing her down. He didn’t scold her, however, and for that she was grateful. He expected her to follow his commands, but he wasn’t expecting perfection. She moaned as she sank her first two fingers into herself. She was wetter than she thought.

“Well?” he asked.

“I’m… very wet, Doctor,” she said. She started to remove her fingers, but he placed his hand over hers, on top of her silky knickers.

“I didn’t say to move your hand,” he said. He grasped it and slowly pumped her fingers in and out of her while his other hand kneaded her breast, his fingers rasping across her nipple.

She was breathing hard, through her mouth. This man she didn’t even know was fucking her with her own hand while she was blindfolded in the back of a limo. And it was _hot_. It amazed her how much she liked it.

“Don’t come without my permission,” he said and she moaned, another surge of wetness coating her fingers. “Remember, I’m in charge of your pleasure. Your orgasms belong to me.”

She whimpered as he dragged her hand from her knickers, making sure her fingers brushed over her clit in the process. He brought her hand up and the next thing she knew was his hot, wet mouth enveloping her first two fingers. She groaned at the erotic feel of him sucking at them, his tongue was a revelation, instantly bringing to mind fantasies of him using it elsewhere, everywhere.

He hummed, swirling his tongue around the digits. “Such a sweet taste,” he murmured, bringing her hand back to her side.

She felt wound up like a spring, her muscles tense. She really wanted him to bring her off, but she couldn’t ask for it, she had to trust that he would take care of her wants in due time. And she knew from experience that the longer she put it off… the better it would be. Especially if it wasn’t just her fingers. She wondered if he was as affected as she was, but the only thing she felt against her lower back was his leg, due to their positions. She breathed, long and slow, calming herself down.

“Very good, flower,” he said with another kiss to her neck. “Keep going this way and I doubt I’ll have to punish you again.” He nuzzled her ear and put his arms around her waist, buttoning her jeans, then pulling down her top. “We’re almost to the hotel. I’m going to unblindfold you. We’ll continue once we’re in the room. Until then, you are free to speak.”

She nodded and he helped her to sit up and against the seat, then surprised her with a kiss, a soft, moist, exchange of breath that stunned her with its sweetness. As he pulled away, so did the blindfold and she blinked at the sudden light, realizing he must have undone it while he kissed her.

He smiled and she was struck once again by how handsome he was, the pleasant humor shining in his deep brown eyes. “Hello, Rose. My name is John. John Noble.”

She smiled back. “Nice to meet you, John.”

The limo came to a stop in front of the posh hotel. Excitement thrummed in Rose’s belly at the thought of going up to his room and what might await her there.

* * *

Rose stood nervously next to John as he collected his key card from the front desk and handed their bags over to the porter, but to her surprise, they didn’t immediately head for the lift. Instead, he threaded her arm around his and walked them over to the restaurant at the other end of the lobby.

“We’re not going right up?” she asked.

“So eager!” he remarked with a pleased smile. “We will, eventually, but first, I’d like to spend some time getting to know Rose before I play with the flower.” He reached out a gently stroked her cheek with one long finger as she blushed.

John pulled her chair out for her when they were seated at the intimate table for two. She thought he might order for her, but he only made a few helpful suggestions, including that she not order any alcohol.

“You are free to drink, if you really want to,” he said, “but I wouldn’t.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“You really shouldn’t when engaging in play. It inhibits the senses, makes it more difficult for each of us to tell when things are getting too intense. In fact, you will rarely see alcohol served in clubs of that nature.”

She admired his ability to talk about the subject in public without letting on what he was referring to. Their waiter came by then and took their order. Rose asked for a soda while John said water was fine for him. When the man left, she turned her attention back to the one across from her. “Rarely, you said. So, it does happen?”

He nodded. “Sometimes. The clubs that do are generally _very_ exclusive, and will have a very low maximum drink allowance. Usually two. And you aren’t allowed to purchase alcohol until you’re an established member of the club, so no drinks for newbies.”

“Wow,” she said. “You really know a lot.”

He smiled. “It’s my business to know. I get asked all sorts of questions.”

“What’s the weirdest question you’ve ever been asked? If you’re allowed to divulge that,” she added. “I don’t know if you have a… confidentiality thing or not.”

He chuckled. “Well, as long as I don’t name any names…” He sipped some water as he considered his answer. “Hmm… Probably the best brand of balloons to buy.”

She blinked. Was he talking about condoms? It didn’t seem like it. “Pardon?”

He leaned forward and lowered his voice a bit. “Some people like to have sex with balloons attached to their bodies. Something about the sound the rubber makes when they rub together and the excitement of the balloons popping as things progress.” He shrugged and sat back. “It’s not my job to judge, this world takes all sorts. But I did have to do a bit of Googling for the question. I’m pretty brilliant, but I don’t know everything.”

She giggled. “Well, I’m really getting an education tonight,” she said.

He looked at her with hooded eyes. “Yes, I suppose you are.” He reached one hand across the table, palm up, and she placed hers over his. He slowly stroked her fingers with his thumb. “Tell me, Rose, what makes you so interested in what I have to offer?”

“Well,” she said, forcing her brain to think past the maddening touch of his thumb on her hand, “it’s something I’ve never done.”

“Never?” he asked. “Never said to a bloke ‘wouldn’t it be fun to tie me up?’”

“No, I’ve done that,” she said. “I just never found anyone willing to give it a go.”

“More’s the pity,” he said. “But it’s not for everyone. So, what makes you think that it’s something you’ll enjoy?”

“I think… it goes back to playing pretend,” she said after a moment’s thought. “I always liked being the kidnapped princess in the tower, but for me… the exciting part was being captured and held by the bad guy.” She flushed red and played with her earring with her free hand. “Is that… I dunno… weird?”

“Not at all, in fact, it’s pretty normal in this crowd.” He smiled, thoughtfully. “It was the fascination I saw in your expression that prompted me to ask you to come with me.”

She giggled softly. “You mean you don’t normally chat a girl up in baggage claim?”

He laughed with her. “No, that was a new one. A lot of people won’t play with those who are inexperienced. I like it. I enjoy showing them a different side of themselves.” He leaned forward and lifted her hand to his mouth. “And it helps that you’re stunning, as well.”

She grinned. “Charmer. You’re not so bad, yourself.”

“What made you say yes?” he asked. “Besides the fact that you’ve been wanting to give this a try. We are strangers, after all. Not many women would do that.”

She shrugged, lightly. “I’m not sure. I didn’t even think about it, really.” She smirked at him. “Maybe you just have one of those faces that says ‘trust me.’”

He tilted his head to the side. “Oh, come on.”

“I don’t know! Just…” She sighed. “Something about how you talked about it, and…” She pursed her lips. “You’re going to think I’m mental.”

“Maybe.” He smiled. “But maybe not. Remember, I’ve heard it all.”

She fidgeted indecisively for a moment, then nodded, relenting. “It was your hands. Watching you manipulate that silk…” She shivered as her nipples hardened at the memory, bringing with them a touch of soreness from earlier. “They looked so natural, so confident… elegant. I could see, just from that one move, that you knew what you were doing.” Her fingers stroked the center of his palm and he narrowed his eyes slightly, focusing intensely on her.

“You’d better be careful, Rose,” he said in a low tone that was reminiscent of his ‘Doctor’ voice. “You’re making me want to skip dinner and go right to dessert.” He laced their fingers together, leaning forward as he said softly, “And you’re going to need your strength.”

She looked down at the tabletop, biting her lip around a smile. Looking up through her eyelashes, she said, “Then I suppose I should try to behave.”

“Mm,” he said, nodding. Then, he caressed her knuckles with his thumb again. “Or not. It’s really up to you. Just be prepared for consequences.”

She wiggled in her seat as warmth began pooling between her legs anew. “I’m not sure, of course…” she said, “but I might like the sound of that.”

* * *

After dinner, John and Rose took the lift to one of the upper floors of the hotel. Rose shifted from one foot to the other, filled with energy she couldn’t seem to tamp down. John smiled down at her.

“Nervous?” he asked.

“Maybe a bit, but excited more, I think,” she said.

“That’s good, I like that,” he said, nodding. They exited the lift and made their way down the hall. “I’ll have a few preparations to make when we go inside. Why don’t you go to the loo and do whatever you feel you need to.” He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “I learned the hard way once that after you put someone in a complicated rope tie is not a good time to discover they need to use the toilet.”

Rose giggled, covering her mouth. “No, really?”

He nodded, sticking out his bottom lip slightly. “Had to cut her down. Brand new rope, too.”

They came to a stop before the door and as he took the key card out of his pocket, she laid a hand on his sleeve. He paused, looking at her askance. “Can I just say,” she said, smiling. “I’m glad I’m doing this with you.”

He returned her smile and something in her melted. “Likewise.” He unlocked the door and had her precede him inside, one hand at the small of her back. She could feel the warmth of his fingers through the thin cotton of her shirt.

The interior of the suite was plush, if a bit bland in greens and blues and furniture in a light tan. Their suitcases were set, side by side, in the sitting area, which had a desk, a sofa, a coffee table, and a big entertainment unit with a telly. The bedroom boasted a large kingsize bed with big, fluffy pillows, a tall wardrobe and matching chest of drawers, and twin nightstands. A tall mirror adorned the door to the ensuite, which featured dual sinks, a huge spa-like tub and separate glassed-in shower area. And of course, a standard toilet, which Rose closed the door to make use of, after John’s warning.

She heard him unzipping his bag and walking around the suite, though the carpet muffled his footsteps. There was a clacking noise as the blackout curtains covering the sliding glass door to the little balcony outside the bedroom were shut. She pictured him in her mind, making quick, efficient movements that came with practice.

As she stood at the sink, fluffing out her hair, she heard the faint sound of music start up. It wasn’t any band she’d ever heard, there were no lyrics, it was almost… industrial in tone, but the one thing she could tell right away was that it had a strong, slow, pulsing drum beat. Her heart thudded in double time to the music.

When she opened the door of the loo, he was standing a few steps away in bare feet, his stance wide. He’d removed his pin-striped jacket and rolled the sleeves of his light blue Oxford up to his elbows, revealing pale forearms sprinkled with dark hair. His hands moved from his trouser pockets to his brown tie with the blue floral print at his throat, sliding the silk through his fingers as he untied it, the whole time never taking his eyes off of her. She swallowed, her throat dry, as the tie rasped along the collar when he pulled it free.

He turned and moved to the dresser, where he’d laid out several items. He set the tie down and picked something else up. When he turned back around, she saw that it was a collar, made of red velvet with black leather around the middle, an O-ring at its center.

“Come here,” he said, in that low voice that sent tingles right down her spine. She walked forward at once and stood in front of him. “When this goes on, we start the scene. You remember the safeword?”

She nodded. “Red.”

“Very good.” He slowly moved around behind her, barely brushing her body with his, teasing her as their clothing caught and dragged along each other. “Raise your hair.”

She did as he said, her hands shaking just slightly with excitement. He eased the collar around her neck and fastened the buckle. When he finished, he laid his hands on her shoulders and closed the small distance between them, pressing himself along her body. Her eyes fluttered shut as she felt his cock through their layers of clothing, growing firm at the small of her back. He slid his lips across her nape, kissing the soft skin below her ear, above the collar. She shivered and let her hair fall as he stepped away from her.

“Step out of your shoes,” he instructed, and she easily got out of her ballet flats, leaving her feet bare. He kicked them aside and they tumbled over to the wall where the curtains were drawn as he moved to stand in front of her again. “Remove your clothing. Shirt first.”

Her hands went to the hem of her pink t-shirt and she pulled it over her head, revealing the cream lace bra she wore underneath. He nodded his head at her shoes and she tossed the shirt over to join them.

“Jeans next.”

As before, her fingers fumbled with the button, but she managed to wiggle free of her jeans and kick them over to join her other things, letting him see the silky seashell pink knickers she had on. There was approval in his dark, hooded gaze as he took her in from crown to toe.

“Beautiful,” he said and she flushed, lowering her eyes. He moved forward and wrapped an arm around her waist, letting his hand rest on the small of her back and using it to guide her around until she faced the bed, standing at the end of it. “Lean forward and brace your hands on the footboard.”

She obeyed, leaning over and wrapping her hands around the slatted footboard. His hands were at her back and moments later, her bra came unfastened. He picked up one of her hands and then the other to disperse with it, placing each one firmly back on the footboard afterward. He was gone for a few seconds, then returned with two lengths of silk, which he wrapped around her wrists and attached through the slats, ensuring she wouldn’t let go.

He moved behind her, out of her line of sight, and adrenaline surged in her stomach as she waited for what would happen next. Then, with slow deliberateness, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her knickers and pulled them down. He crouched, lifting each of her feet to rid her of the underwear, and his breath ghosted across her folds, the rush of cold air all the more evident from her damp arousal. She loved the way it felt, bent over and exposed to him like she was. It amazed her how completely she trusted him.

She gasped as he slid a toy into her. At first, she couldn’t tell what it was, because it felt too soft to be a vibrator, but wasn’t the right shape to be anything else. He stood and moved to her side and she saw in his hand was a small remote control. As he pressed a button, the toy inside of her expanded into a slight conical shape, effectively keeping it inside her with him having to hold it there.

“Remember, flower,” he said. “Don’t come without my permission.”

She moaned as he pressed another button and the toy began pulsing in her core. It felt amazing, she had no idea how she was going to be able to keep from coming before he said she could.

He slipped the remote into his pocket and retrieved something else from the dresser. He moved so she could see it, it looked almost like a ping-pong paddle, but the handle was flat, like the rest of it, and the whole thing was covered in smooth black leather. He massaged and caressed her bum with his free hand as the toy continued to throb inside of her.

“You have the most perfect arse,” he said. “The perfect shape and size, and such a beautiful pale color. It just makes a man want to turn it pink.” He slid the paddle over her bum then, and the touch of the leather made her shiver with anticipation, her heart beating faster, knowing what was to happen next.

He started with light taps, in a double rhythm to the music, first one cheek, then the other, gradually increasing in strength. Her skin began to sting and then tingle. As he allowed the paddle to fall harder, he slowed, matching the beat of the drum now, the pulse thrumming through her whole body as flames licked at her arse. The bite of the paddle quickly turned into fissions of pleasure until she no longer was crying out from the impact, but moaning in bliss.

“May I come, Doctor?” she asked, breathlessly, when she was almost too close to the edge to pull back.

“No.” His sharp command brought her back, but just barely. He ceased paddling her and a moment later, the pulsing toy stopped and contracted, allowing him to remove it from her.

She bit back a whine of disappointment, trusting that he knew what he was doing. With a single tug on the end of each length of silk, her hands came free. He took them in his and allowed her to straighten up as he looked at her nails for signs of circulation being cut off. Satisfied that she was all right, he nudged her to the side of the bed with a hand on her back. “Lie face down on the bed.”

As she moved to comply, he returned to the dresser and laid the silks aside, picking up a long black leather flogger and a faux fur covered blindfold. He returned to her, fitted the blindfold over her eyes, and then said, “Put your hands at your sides and widen your thighs.” When she did, he climbed onto the bed with her, kneeling between her legs. A sensual tremor raced through her as she thought about how he could probably see how wet she was.

She felt the soft caress of a multitude of thin leather strands over her inner thighs and a trickle of excitement shimmied its way through her. The flogger moved over her bum, along her spine to her neck, and then across each shoulder. It moved back down over her back and he said in a softer tone, “Use your word if you feel anything other than pleasure. If you feel fear or want me to stop, just say it and the scene ends.”

Swallowing, she nodded, then jumped as he snapped the flogger in the air, the sound almost like that of a whip.

“How are you to address me, flower?” he said with a bit of a growl in his voice that made her shiver.

“Yes, Doctor!” she said at once.

There was another snap and then a sting against both of her arse cheeks that startled her into crying out. The sting quickly melted into warmth that spread across her skin.

“There’s that pink I like to see,” he murmured, almost crooned, and another lash fell.

She bit her lip as the next lash came and then the next, still in time with the music that was beating a little faster now. He graduated the blows, ramping her up towards this new kind of pain slowly, and it seemed that the more he flogged her, the better it felt.

The pain melded into a kind of rapture as heat spread all over her body and her brain floated away from the here and now, into a kind of weightless atmosphere where pain didn’t exist, where time didn’t exist, where even she didn’t exist. It was as if she were drifting high above her body.

He lashed her shoulders, her back, her arse, her thighs, always continuing to another location and never striking the same one. She didn’t know how long it had been. He was hitting harder, but she couldn’t even feel it. It was like… being aware that pain was happening, but being separate from it.

She didn’t know when he stopped, wasn’t aware of the rhythmic moaning she was making as she floated along in blissful abandon. He climbed off of the bed and was gone for a short while, it could have been seconds for all she knew. Then, he was picking her up, maneuvering her into his arms, where she lay limply for several minutes. As awareness began to return to her limbs, her arms crept up his shirt and her fingers clutched into his collar. She noticed that the blindfold was gone as she nuzzled his chest with her nose. Also, the music had stopped, and there was steam coming into the room from the ensuite. She took a long, shuddering breath.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Doctor.”

He kissed her forehead around a smile, then stood with her in his arms and turned, laying her on her back on the bed. Her arse burned, making her gasp, but she liked it… the reminder of what he’d done. He lifted her arms up to the bottom of the headboard.

“Hold on,” he said, “and don’t let go.”

She did as he straightened up and stood at the side of the bed. His long fingers deftly undid the buttons of his Oxford, revealing a white undershirt, which he removed, leaving him bare chested, a smattering of dark hair across his pectorals. After retrieving a foil packet from the pocket of his trousers, they followed suit onto the floor, along with his boxer briefs. Then he moved over her, between her splayed thighs, and she almost sighed in relief as she saw his cock thrusting out in an impressive hard-on.

She watched as he tore open the condom wrapper and grit his teeth as he rolled the latex over himself, but instead of taking her right away as she hoped, he lay down on his stomach, pushing her thighs wide apart. When she felt his hot tongue lave her folds, she almost lost it. Her thighs quaked with small tremors and she gasped out, “I can’t—!”

He gave a satisfied sound and thankfully moved away. “So sweet,” he murmured.

His elegant hands grasped her gently rounded hips and he pressed himself against her, rubbing his erection along her wetness. She fought against his hold, trying to arch herself up into him, needing to feel him inside, wanting him to take her, but he held her firm.

“I control your pleasure,” he said, swatting her arse with one hand. “I determine when and how deeply I take you, flower.”

She moaned. He had raised her to such a high sensitivity, that it seemed like she could feel everything with startling clarity and the sensations were near to driving her mad. But she was afraid he’d withhold himself from her if she disobeyed, so she forced herself to go still.

“Much better.”

He leaned forward and just the head of him slipped through her entrance. She whimpered, her arms and legs trembling as he slowly entered her… but then he pulled away, completely out of her, and then she almost cried. She needed him _now_ , couldn’t he _see_ that? Shouldn’t he _know_? She took in slow, deep breaths as she waited for him to continue the torture, breathing in the scent of their sweat. His hands on her hips felt like a caress, his breath ghosted across her chest, tightening her nipples. He moved his cock back into the entrance of her core and she prepared for him to tease her again.

But with a fierce growl, he surged forward with one sure thrust and buried himself in her, sheathing himself completely.

She screamed in ecstasy, in joy of how good it felt to be filled by him. He was long and thick and hard and more than anything she’d ever experienced in the past. “Oh, God, _yes_ , Doctor!” she cried as he thrust in and out of her and the wet sounds of their flesh slapping together filled the room.

“You like this, don’t you, flower?” he said and smacked her arse with his palm again, making her give a cry of excitement. “You like being taken by your Doctor.”

Barely realizing what she was doing, she nodded. “Yes, yes, _fuck_ me, Doctor! Fuck me!”

“Don’t come yet,” he instructed through gritted teeth as he thrust harder and harder, driving deep inside her, pushing her up the bed, her arms bending as she came closer to the headboard where she still hung on for dear life.

Her orgasm built with such fierce intensity that she was positive she was going to burst into flames. Sweat from his forehead dripped onto her stomach, and the scent of sex in the air was making her lightheaded.

“Please, Doctor, _please_!” she begged. “I’m gonna—”

“Come for me, now, flower!” he ordered.

Her body responded so quickly to his permission that it shocked her. The climax blazed through her, burning outward to every part of her body. She screamed, arching her back as every muscle pulled taut, then she jerked and bucked against him, the sensations rippling as though they would never end.

Distantly, she heard his shout and felt his cock pulsate inside her. The world spun behind her eyelids, sending her careening into a different sort of twilight world than the one she’d been in before. One where white sparks flew in the darkness, her body tuned to every convulsion of her core, every spasm of his cock, throbbing vibrations carrying through her, like an instrument after a chord.

He laid down next to her and cuddled her close to him, entwining their legs together. Cupping her face, he stroked her cheeks with his thumbs and kissed her, his fingers moving back to tangle in her hair. Lost to the sensual movements of his tongue against hers, she didn’t notice him unbuckling the collar around her neck until it came loose. He kissed her softly once more, before pulling back enough so she could see his smiling expression, his face practically glowing with pride.

“You were wonderful, Rose,” he said. “Just relax now. Let me take care of you.”

She whimpered as he slid free, but he gently shushed her, quickly taking care of the condom and dropping it into a nearby rubbish bin. Then he took her in his arms and carried her into the ensuite, where she saw a bath had been drawn in the spa tub. She smiled, knowing now what the steam had been all about when she’d come out of floaty-land before.

Carefully, he checked the water with his foot, balancing them against the wall. Once he was satisfied that it had cooled to a good temperature, he stepped into the tub with her, cradling her against his chest while he settled against the side.

After a few minutes of just relaxing, him lightly running his hands up and down her arms, much like he had before in the limo, he shifted her position so that she was between his legs. Gently, he washed her hair, his fingers sifting through the soft strands as she fairly purred with pleasure, and lathered her body with soap, rinsing every inch of her, paying special attention to her bum, caressing it softly. He spent a little while massaging her shoulders, once again impressing her with his hands, then asked her to wait while he got out of the tub.

He wrapped a towel around his hips, then collected an especially large and fluffy-looking one which he held out to her, enclosing her in it when she rose from the tub and stepped out. He dried her as carefully as he’d washed her, and even knew to press her hair, rather than crush it in the towel. Then he led her back out to the bedroom and indicated her bag.

“May I?” he asked.

She didn’t know why, but that simple question made her blush. Like it was somehow… indecent that he should ask her permission for anything now. It was a revelation to her, that he’d brought her down so far, and that now he was making sure to bring her back up. She nodded. “Yes, of course.”

In a few moments, he’d located what he wanted and helped her into a soft cotton vest top and sleep shorts. Then, he sat himself on the bed against the headboard and patted the spot in front of him, proceeding to brush and plait her hair. The hair brush running through the strands of her hair was incredibly relaxing, yet there was still something sensuous about having him be the one to do it.

When he was done, he tucked her under the covers, found his pants and pulled them on, turned off the overhead light, then crawled in next to her. He drew her in close, molding her body to his, his hand sweeping soothingly along her back.

“Thank you for this, Rose,” he said, warmly. “You should be so proud of yourself, you were marvelous.”

She smiled. “I didn’t do anything. You did all the work.”

He shook his head. “You took everything I gave you, and you should be proud of that. You were perfect, I don’t think I’ve ever had a better first time with someone.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “I was amazed by you.”

She blushed at his praise, happiness welling up inside of her. “Thank you,” she said, meaning it in every sense of the phrase. Then, she yawned, all her energy seeping out of her in the wake of the scene.

He kissed her forehead. “Go ahead and sleep. I’ll wake you up in plenty of time tomorrow.”

Trusting him to do as he said, Rose drifted off in minutes.

* * *

When she woke the next morning, to John’s soft voice, his hand stroking her arm, it all felt a little surreal. He could have been any bloke she’d pulled at a pub and spent the night with. Then, she sat up and a slight lingering ache in her backside reminded her that John was many things, but he was definitely not ‘just some bloke.’

He pressed a cup of tea into her hands, telling her there was breakfast in the sitting room. She gratefully took a sip of the bitter brew, letting it wake her up a bit, before she climbed out of the bed. She padded into the other room to join him for breakfast, adding sugar and cream to the mug. He smiled as she did so, commenting, "Sweet and pale, just like you."

She grinned, cheekily. "Yeah, til a certain bloke with great hair turns me all pink."

He made a pleased sound in his throat. "I like that. You're my pink and yellow girl."

He’d ordered them a feast from room service and they sat across the desk from each other, spreading marmalade on toast, nibbling on pastries and fresh fruit.

“Any feedback?” he asked, suddenly. There was genuine curiosity in his expression. “Things can seem different the morning after.”

She paused, thoughtfully sipping her tea. “It was… definitely unlike anything I’ve ever done before, I can tell you that right off. But I liked all of it, honestly. If I hadn’t, I would have called red.”

He smiled, with some relief. “Some subs are afraid to use their safeword, too worried about disappointing their Dom.”

She nodded. “I can see that. But I was never afraid, you took me through it so brilliantly. I never felt lost or unsure about what was happening. Well, there was that time when…” She pursed her lips. “Actually, I’m not sure what happened.” She gestured vaguely with the hand not holding the mug of tea. “It got all… floaty in the middle.”

“Ah,” he said, understanding. “You fell into what’s called ‘subspace.’ It’s hard to describe, but it’s something rather like hypnotism. The rhythm and repetition relaxes you and coaxes your mind into slipping away… Like, being unconscious while still being conscious.” He shook his head. “There’s more to it than that, but that’s the best comparison that I can make. I was surprised that you managed it in your first scene, but then, that seems to be normal for you.”

“What is?”

“Surprising me. And trust me, that’s not an easy thing to do.” He sat forward in his chair slightly, leaning an elbow on the table. “Rose, last night, we played together like we’d been doing it for years. Yes, I know what I’m doing, but for you to exhibit the level of trust that you did? It was incredible.”

He sounded very impressed with her and she looked down at her breakfast, smiling and blushing. “Maybe what you call ‘trust’ is really ‘inexperience,’” she said. “I just don’t know enough to be cautious.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” he said, but he took a large bite of toast rather than say what his thoughts were.

After breakfast, he let Rose have the shower while he packed up a totebag with the things he needed for his demonstration later. She was in and out quickly, since he’d washed her hair for her last night. The memory brought a rush of heat with it. She’d never had a bloke do that before… It made her insides feel all gooey.

He came in to the ensuite just as she was stepping out of the shower, wrapping herself in a towel. He was gloriously naked and winked at her as he turned the shower back on. She grinned at him through the glass as he showered, crooning snippets of songs. She used the hotel’s blow dryer on her hair, the amused smile on her face refusing to leave as he sang out, “When the daylight comes I’ll have to go, but tonight I’m gonna hold you so close…”

It was even more surreal when they finished getting dressed and Rose zipped up her suitcase, a sense of finality following it. She looked over at John, who was standing in front of the mirror hanging on the ensuite door, tying his tie with those beautiful hands of his. He was wearing a blue suit today, with little red pin-stripes, the tie was burgundy with bright blue flowers, and instead of the white chucks from yesterday, they were red. He certainly had a style all his own.

She looked down at herself, at the sober navy skirt suit and cream blouse and sensible black flats that made up her ‘armor’ for the work convention. Looking at the two of them, dressed, ready to go and face the day, she almost couldn’t believe that what they’d shared last night was only a handful of hours ago.

“When are you leaving town?” she asked him, the question blurting out before she could stop it.

“Tomorrow,” he said. He finished the tie, straightening the knot at his throat before looking at her. “You?”

“Same.” She shifted her weight nervously, wanting to tell him how much their time together had meant to her, but not certain she could ever articulate it properly. “Thank you,” she said, finally. “Last night was… more than I ever could have hoped for.”

He smiled and crossed the room to wrap his arms around her waist. She leaned into him, her head fitting perfectly underneath his chin, breathing in his just-washed scent of hotel soap and aftershave.

“I know what you mean,” he said. “I wish we had more time.” He pulled back, taking her hand. “Come on, I’ll walk you downstairs.”

He handed her into a taxi and she gave the name of the hotel before turning back to him, holding out her hand through the open window. He took it and bent forward at the waist, pressing a gallant kiss to her fingers.

“Thank you again, Rose,” he said, smiling.

“Thank _you_ ,” she returned. “For everything.”

As the taxi took off, she looked back and saw his arm raised in farewell. She waved back, her heart feeling heavy as she did so.

* * *

Rose moved through the convention in the banquet hall of her hotel on auto-pilot. She accepted paperwork from various firms and handed out business cards. She listened to the speakers dutifully, but her mind was elsewhere. The image of dark chocolate eyes with crinkles at the corners and soft chestnut hair kept tantalizing the edges of her thoughts. The memory of his voice, low in command or slyly teasing or brightly singing, sent goosebumps along her arms under her suit jacket.

She didn’t want to be there. She knew where she wanted to be, but it wasn’t going to happen. She and John hadn’t even exchanged numbers, and she definitely wasn’t going to go back to his hotel. That would be horribly embarrassing and, while she’d discovered she had a taste for submitting to him, she still had her pride. No, better to leave it as it was… A perfect night, untainted by awkwardness.

Even with that resolve, Rose had a difficult time sleeping that night. Her queen size bed felt cold and enormous. The prospect of returning home the next day, to the same monotonous life she’d always known, was like a kick to the gut. It wasn’t that there was anything _wrong_ with her life, it was just so… bland. Get up, go to work, go home, watch telly, sleep, maybe a pub quiz here and there, dating whenever her mother nagged her too much about being alone... It was the sort of thing everyone did, but after her night with John… It was like returning to Kansas after seeing the brilliant Technicolor of Oz. She could do it… but she didn’t much want to.

Melancholy wreathed her heart as she checked out of the hotel the next morning. She’d had a fairly sleepless night, drifting off fitfully sometime after two. The woman at the counter startled her out of her morose stupor when she said someone had left her something. With nerveless fingers, Rose took the proffered envelope and moved away from the desk to open it.

Her heart began thudding as she removed a piece of paper stamped with the name of the hotel she’d stayed at with John. In bold, looping handwriting, he’d written:

_Dear Rose,_

_Forgive me for using this cowardly method of contacting you, but I didn’t think I could handle you telling me no to my face._

_Last night, we made a connection. I felt it, I hope you did, too. It was especially apparent when you left this morning. I missed you. I could barely concentrate during my whole demonstration, I’m sure I’m going to get some comments later, but our time together was worth it. I couldn’t sleep last night, you were all I could think about._

_I can’t let you slip through my fingers without making an attempt to hold onto you. I’ll be in baggage claim today until noon. I’ll have to leave then if I want to catch my flight. Meet me there. Come with me. It’s mad, I know. Which is why I left you this note instead of asking you face to face. But the possibilities between us are too fantastic for me not to try._

_What do you think, my pink and yellow girl? You could stay where you are and fill your life with work and food and sleep, or we could go... anywhere._

_Your Doctor,_

_John_

Rose looked at her watch. It was just after eleven. Her mind whirled. She looked down at her suitcase, filled with all the paperwork she was expected to bring back home. Her suitcase… which looked so much like John’s suitcase, which was filled with… potential.

She grinned and jogged outside, pulling the bag behind her, the letter clutched in her hand.

* * *

She saw him before he saw her. He was leaning against the wall, near the chairs where he’d opened his suitcase for her. He was wearing a long, tan coat over his suit, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he stared intently at the ground. His suitcase was next to him.

She didn’t know what alerted him to her presence, but as she walked towards him, he suddenly looked up and turned his head, looking right at her. His eyes were wide, questioning, but as she smiled at him, an answering grin spread across his face, lighting up his whole expression.

He pushed away from the wall and dragged his suitcase with him to meet her halfway. “Rose Tyler,” he said, pronouncing her name slowly, as though tasting it. “You came.”

She lifted a teasing eyebrow. “And I showed up, too.” He laughed and she joined in a moment later. “So, a coward, huh?” she asked.

“Oh, yes,” he said. “Coward, any day. Because you… you are fearless. And that’s terrifying.” He took her hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb. “Are you sure about this?”

“Maybe I don’t have the details worked out… like what I’m going to tell my folks,” she said, with a bit of an eyeroll, “but I want to do this. Being with you… I love it.”

He cupped her face in his hands, trailing his fingers along her neck and caressing her jaw with his thumb. He leaned down and kissed her top lip, then her bottom one, nibbling at it, before parting her lips with his tongue. Her arms slid around his waist, tugging at him until their hips met, their bodies fitting to one another like puzzle pieces. Her hands traveled up his back, grabbing handfuls of his coat as ripples of sensation chased each other up and down her spine.

When they pulled back, she gazed into the inky depths of his eyes, as fathomless as the dark of the universe, and something like a promise passed between them. She knew they had a lot to talk about, but right then, it was enough.

“What about a plane ticket?” she asked, suddenly. Hers wasn’t open ended.

With a little smirk, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out one of those little folders airlines give passengers to keep their tickets in. He handed it to her and she opened it to see her name printed at the top.

“How did you know I’d say yes?” she asked.

“I didn’t,” he said. “I just hoped you would.”

She smiled, standing on her toes to kiss him again. He smiled down at her as though he’d never stop.

“Well, then, Rose Tyler,” he said, grabbing onto the extendable arm of his suitcase. “We have a plane to catch.” He held out his free hand to her, wiggling his fingers enticingly. Without a moment’s hesitation, she took it. “Run!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In part two, Rose decides she wants to give being Dominant a try. John finds her a submissive play partner, but is completely unprepared for his reaction to seeing his flower Top another man.

 

“Hello, class, are we sitting comfortably?” asked the Doctor, his voice spreading out over the audience through the lapel mic attached to his suit jacket. He walked to the edge of the stage and peered out into the darkness beyond the bright lights trained on him, his hands in his trouser pockets, a wide grin on his face.

“Now! Kink! BDSM! Bondage, Domination, Sadism, Masochism. Show of hands, who originally thought the ‘s’ stood for submission? Be honest, there’s no shame here!” A light chuckling rumbled through the audience as several members raised their hands shyly. “No worries, me too,” said the Doctor with a cheeky wink. “Because you’d think it makes sense, right? But the submission is implied with the ‘d’ for domination, whereas, sadism and masochism can be mutually exclusive. I hope you’re taking this down, there will be a test later.”

There was some more laughter as he stepped back and spread his arm out toward the offstage area. “At this point in my lecture, I’d like to introduce my lovely assistant to you all. Come on out, flower.”

There was a smattering of applause as Rose took the stage. She gave a smile and a wave and stopped in front of the Doctor, who put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a brief kiss on the forehead before getting down to business. She stood to his side with her hands clasped behind her back and her head held high, ready for the day’s demonstrations.

* * *

Jack was a notorious flirt. Everyone who worked with him at Torchwood Cardiff knew it and accepted it, generally with a good deal of eye-rolling and snorts of laughter. What they didn’t know was that it was all a front, because he was actually very private with his personal life.

He’d been with his current boyfriend for three years, but he’d been a part of the BDSM scene since he was eighteen years old. Even so, when he heard that the Doctor was coming to Cardiff for a workshop, he jumped at the chance to attend. The man was a legend in the kink community and no matter how much Jack knew, there was always the chance to learn more at the hands of a skilled master. (Literally, if the opportunity occurred.)

He wasn’t expecting anything other than a pleasant afternoon, absorbing information and making new connections with interesting people, with Ianto at his side.

So, it was a shock, to say the least, when he saw the daughter of his boss walk on stage.

* * *

John had a public online profile, which vaguely listed him as a public speaker, while the Doctor had a selectively published profile, proclaiming him a BDSM expert and demonstrator. It was the public profile Rose had linked Jackie and Pete to when she’d explained her sudden shift in careers from a hotel telephone in Barcelona. She and John had decided to keep the finer points of their relationship behind closed doors from her parents, at least for the time being. Rose just knew Jackie would have John pegged as a ‘weirdo’ from the start already, she didn’t need any added ammunition to support that theory.

Because there wasn’t anything ‘weird’ about John or their relationship, but Jackie wouldn’t see it that way and Rose accepted that. She was happy being with John and what her mother didn’t know wouldn’t hurt anyone.

So, to her family, Rose was John’s personal assistant, traveling to different places every week and managing his schedule and whatever else he needed. Pete was fine with it, he knew Rose had been stagnating at Torchwood and the opportunity for her to see more of the world was fantastic. Plus, she was earning more, so he helped keep Jackie calm about her daughter’s new-found freedom and wished Rose well.

Technically, Rose _was_ John’s assistant, her duties were just vastly different and more extensive from other personal assistants. Rose dressed in form-fitting yoga pants and a vest top when she joined him on stage, so that he could demonstrate rope ties without her clothing getting in the way. She would hand him various things to show the audience, allow him to use her as a model for gear (if decency allowed, they still had rules to abide by), and direct his attention to people with questions. Sometimes he would flog or spank her on stage, to show the proper areas to hit and what to avoid and the various ways of doing it, but always over her clothing. And just as he was ‘the Doctor’ during his demonstrations, she was always ‘flower,’ not wanting anyone to look up her real name and have it somehow get back to her parents.

So, it was a shock, to say the least, when someone came to the backstage area after a show, asking for Rose Tyler.

* * *

“Well?”

The Doctor stood behind his flower as they faced the wall in the backstage area. His arms were around her waist, his hands resting over hers on her abdomen. His firm cock was nestled against the crack of her arse through their clothes, as he always developed a knob-on whenever they gave a demonstration. He’d learned to live with the embarrassment, because there was very little he could do about it other than perhaps wrapping an ace bandage around himself beforehand, and that would get uncomfortable very quickly.

Rose shivered at his low voice next to her ear, his breath stirring the tendrils of hair that had escaped her ponytail. She looked down at the floor, her cheeks turning pink, as she knew exactly what he was referring to. She nodded, mutely.

“Show me.”

She slipped one of her hands from beneath his and reached into her yoga trousers, underneath her silky black thong knickers. She bit her lip, suppressing a moan, as she dipped her first two fingers into herself. She swore she could hear the obscenely wet sounds as she pumped them in and out, twice but no more, then carefully removed her hand and held it up for him. His long fingers wrapped around her hand, drawing it back, over her shoulder, and the next thing she knew was his hot mouth and slick tongue, enveloping her fingers, swirling around them, sucking her wetness from them.

His deep groan of pleasure nearly made her knees buckle, but his arm around her kept her on her feet. It was their ritual after a show… letting each other know just how turned on they’d become during the course of things. A preview of what they’d get up to in the hotel room a short while later, which only made the arousal spike hotter.

“Excuse me, Doctor?” the staffer assigned to keep people from wandering backstage spoke up, much nearer than they were expecting, making each of them startle slightly.

John released Rose’s fingers from his mouth suddenly. They turned, her with an expectant look on her face, him more annoyed that they had been interrupted. “What is it?” John asked, wiping distractedly at the saliva that had dripped on his chin.

The staffer looked a bit confused. “I know you said you wanted no one backstage, but there’s someone asking for a ‘Rose?’ They’re being quite insistent.”

She gasped and John turned to her at once. Her eyes were wide with apprehension. He kept his arm around her and cupped her cheek with his free hand, leaning his forehead against hers. “Don’t panic,” he said, in a calm, soft voice. “We’ll figure this out.”

She nodded, reassured. When he looked back to the staffer, John’s eyes and countenance had turned stormy, dark, formidable.

“Let them come in.”

Rose’s fingers tightened around John’s hand when the person who knew her came around the corner. “Shit,” she muttered. “I think I do know this guy. He works for my father’s company.”

“I thought that was you,” the dark-haired man said as he approached, his blue eyes bright with recognition. “Rose, right? We met at the opening of the Cardiff office. Your dad gave a speech, there was a lot of champagne…” She nodded, reluctantly acknowledging the memory. He looked at John, his smile widening. “Hi, Jack Harkness, _big_ fan of your work.” He held out a hand.

John looked at it, then shook it, firmly. “Pleased to meet you, Jack,” he said, smoothly. “I’m glad you came backstage, as we’d like to talk to you about your acquaintance with Rose. Come. Sit.”

There were a few folding chairs set up near a table that held bottles of water. Rose and John sat side by side and Jack sat across from them, grinning broadly.

“Isn’t this a kick?” he exclaimed. “Out of all the people I’ve met in the community over the years, I never thought you’d be one of them!” He held up his hands, backpedaling a bit. “Not that you shouldn’t or anything, but you’re working with the _Doctor!_ How crazy is that?”

“Jack, the thing is, my parents don’t know I do this,” said Rose, tightly holding one of John’s hands in her own.

“They don’t know you’re into kink?” he asked. “That’s fine, loads of people keep it behind closed doors.”

“Not exactly,” she said. “They don’t know that I work as the Doctor’s assistant for a living. They think I’m a PA for a public speaker.” She leaned forward, biting her lower lip. “Jack, please. They wouldn’t understand. I love my parents, but they’re not as open-minded as I’d like them to be in order for me to be open about this. Please say you’ll keep my secret.”

John was sitting back in his chair nonchalantly, letting Rose handle the situation how she saw fit, unless he saw cause to speak up, but he watched the other man carefully. He looked for any ticks that might lead him to believe Jack was being in any way untruthful. He wasn’t about to let anyone bring harm or grief to his flower.

Jack gave her a charming smile. “Rose, I’ve been in this world for a long time and I would never dream of ‘outing’ anyone. Who you are to your family and who you are to your partner is your business. I keep my private life personal as well. I promise, I won’t say anything.”

Rose breathed a sigh of relief, sagging back in her chair. John squeezed her hand and she gave him a tremulous smile.

“May I ask for one favor, though?” said Jack.

John fought the urge to roll his eyes. _Here it comes,_ he thought. What would the man ask for, he wondered… Money, maybe? It wouldn’t be the first time a fan had propositioned him for sex and/or dominance, not even the first time for it to be a man.

Jack reached into the messenger bag at his side and pulled out a book, which he held out to John. “Would you sign this for me?” he asked, his eyes large and pleading.

Rose looked down at the cover, which boasted the lofty title ‘Sovereign’ and a photo of a man with his back to the camera, wearing leather trousers and no shirt and holding a riding crop behind him in both hands. She recognized the model as John after a second glance. Even in profile, the mole between his shoulder blades and the dimples above his arse gave him away. She giggled, biting her lip when he shot her a look. She wondered if he still had those trousers and how open he’d be to wearing them again…

John smiled and took the book, reaching into his jacket pocket for his favorite silver pen. “Of course. Shall I make it out to Jack, or leave it blank for Ebay?”

Jack shook his head. “This is going no where near Ebay. And actually, could you make it out to ‘Captain Jack Harkness?’” He blushed a bit and leaned in to Rose to whisper, “It’s what my boyfriend calls me.”

“Oooh!” cooed Rose as John signed ‘the Doctor’ with a flourish on the inside cover.

* * *

John groaned when he came out of the en suite with his wet hair slicked back, a towel slung low on his hips, and saw Rose sitting up in bed, reading his book. “Where’d you get that?” he asked, moving to the dresser to find a clean pair of jimjams.

“One of the vendors had a copy,” she said. They were giving a few demonstrations at an adult convention this weekend. Rose had gone shopping in the dealer’s hall that afternoon while he attended a meet-and-greet. “I really love all these pictures you did,” she added with a tongue-touched grin.

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, letting her know without words that there would be payback for her teasing if she continued. “I wrote that when I was just starting to gain notoriety,” he said. “It did really well, went a long way toward securing my independence. I went from being a professional Dom who lectured on the side, struggling to find places that wanted me, to demonstrating full time and being able to pick and choose where I went.” He pulled on his striped pajama bottoms and tossed the damp towel into the en suite. “But why are you reading it? Not just enjoying the pictures, are you?”

“Not at all,” she said as he joined her in bed. “It’s really fascinating! Gives me a peek into what goes on in your head. I don’t think I really got it before… what it means to be a Dom. Now, I think I might.”

“Yeah?” he asked with a little smile.

She scooted over, cuddling up next to him with one finger marking her place in the book. “Yeah. When you Top someone, you’re giving them something no one else can. You’re taking care of their needs, while simultaneously getting what you need by being in control of them. I thought it was all about pleasing you, but really, you base everything on what I need out of the scene.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “You take on so much responsibility.”

He traced her jaw with the fingers of one hand and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m proud of you. It’s difficult for some to see things from the other point of view.”

She laid the book in her lap and brought her hand up to play with the soft chest hair sprinkled across his pectorals. “Do you think--” She hesitated and he covered her hand with his.

“You can ask me anything, Rose.”

She smiled. “I know.” She bit her lower lip. “Do you think… I could try it sometime?”

His eyes widened slightly and his brows lifted high. “You mean… being a Domme?”

She nodded, then hastened to say, “Not with you, I know you don’t do that, but…” Her eyes were full of uncertainty. “I think I’d like to try it, to see how it feels. Do you… think I could?”

He placed the crook of his index finger below her chin and tilted her head up so that she could see the warmth and honesty in his gaze. “Rose, if there is one thing I have learned since being with you, it’s that you can do anything you set your mind to. If you want to try being the Top, I would love to help you realize that. I’ll even find you someone to play with.”

Her eyes brightened. “Really?”

He nodded. “I have a lot of contacts. Let’s make some plans and work through some ideas. Do a little training. The next time we go back to our house, we’ll set up a meeting. If we like him and, more importantly, _you_ like him, then we’ll see what happens. All right?”

She leaned up and kissed him on the lips. “I love you.”

He nuzzled her nose with his. “I love you, too.” He smiled down at her. “We’ve got all of them fooled, don’t we? Everyone thinks it’s me who controls this relationship, but it’s really the other way around. You control me. You make me mad with love for you, tempered with equal parts need and lust.” He nudged his erection against her thigh to emphasize his point. “I’d do anything for you.”

“A girl could take advantage of a situation like that,” said Rose with a wicked gleam in her eyes as her fingers trailed down his abdomen.

His stomach tightened as she tickled the ‘V’ of his hips. “She could, indeed,” he said, smirking.

“Well, be glad I’m just too good for that,” she said, grasping him through his jimjams and delighting in his groan of pleasure.

* * *

It wasn’t difficult for John to find a prospective play partner for Rose. His name was Matt and he was the same age as Rose, but wise for his years. He’d met the man at a joint lecture, where the Doctor talked about dominance and Matt had talked about submissiveness. He sometimes joked that his name was appropriate, because he liked it when people ‘walked all over him.’ Literally, if that was their thing.

He was also quite selective as to who he played with, which made Rose feel better. Either the connection would be there or it wouldn’t.

“His very first experience in BDSM was a bad one,” said John as he told Rose what he knew of Matt. “He had an inexperienced Domme who abused him. He got out of the relationship once he realized how unhealthy it was, and he took the opportunity to learn everything he could so he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Which is why he gives lectures now and also why he’s careful. I’ve already told him that you’ve never Topped before, but he said he trusted me to train you right. Plus, the fact that you’re also a sub, that you’ve been on the receiving end, convinced him to meet with us.”

The more they talked about it and the more John coached Rose, the more excited she became at the prospect of Topping a submissive man. John said that he would be present through everything, not just to support her, but for safety reasons.

“Whenever you play with someone new, especially when you’re not used to being the Dominant, you want someone else present to oversee things. A dungeon master,” he said as he tied his favorite tie, the brown with the blue floral print.

She paused in applying her makeup and giggled, looking at him over her shoulder. “Do I need to get out my twenty sided dice?”

He smacked her playfully on her arse, which she wiggled in return. “Very cute, Rose. We might not have a dungeon, but I’ll still master you.”

“Ooh, yes, Doctor,” she said, a naughty gleam in her eyes.

She’d learned early on that John only punished her when she gave him cause, so she’d taken to teasing him or giving a bit of cheek here and there. She knew not to push him too far, just enough to push her boundaries. It was exciting for them both.

They met Matt at a restaurant downtown, where John had secured a slightly more private corner for them. He explained that it was for the comfort of all parties that they met in public, but they needed to be able to talk as well. Matt was waiting for them when they got there and he stood up to greet them with a sweet smile.

He was just a little shorter than John, with a defined jaw, clear green eyes, and lots of light brown hair that flopped over his right eye. Rose’s fingers twitched slightly, experiencing a similar urge to when she first met John and wanted to run her hands through his hair. Matt’s hair looked very touchable. He wore black slacks and a light gray Oxford with a slightly darker waistcoat under a jacket that was an unusual shade of aubergine, but what surprised her most was the matching bow tie with tiny gray polka dots on it. Not many men could pull off a bow tie without wearing a tuxedo. Matt made it work.

He shook John’s hand, saying, “Good to see you again.”

“Likewise,” said John. He placed his hand at the small of her back from where she stood at his side. “This is my Rose.”

“A pleasure to finally meet you,” said Matt, warmly, leaning in to give her an air kiss on either side of her face.

She returned his smile and they all sat down together. They waited for their server to take their drink orders before starting their conversation. Matt pulled an envelope out of an inner pocket of his jacket and slid it across the table to the two of them.

“I brought my list, as you requested,” he said. A kink checklist was standard for any play partners looking for compatibility. John had made Rose fill one out on their clandestine plane trip after their first night together. Many things on it had changed during their time together and she’d become more experienced, so she’d filled out a brand new one prior to the meeting.

“Good,” said John, pulling a similar envelope out of his own inner pocket and handing it over. “Here’s Rose’s list. We can go over them later; let’s talk more broadly before we go into details.”

They spoke at length about Matt’s expectations and Rose’s. She told him that she just wanted to keep things simple, since it was her first time. Some bondage, some impact play. Matt assured the both of them that he would be honored to be Rose’s first sub and that if things got too intense and she called it off, he wouldn’t mind at all. He was happy to help expand her horizons (and have some fun himself along the way).

“What if things get intense and… I don’t want to stop, but go further?” asked Rose. “Our scenes tend to get really passionate and end up culminating in sex. I don’t know if that will happen with you and me, but … Well, what do you think about it?” She took John’s hand in hers and squeezed it. “We’ve talked about it and--”

“I told Rose that this is about her and what she wants, whatever that ends up being. That she shouldn’t let anything hold her back from the experience she’s seeking, and she should do whatever she feels comfortable with, provided you’re okay with it as well,” John finished.

Matt gave Rose a long, intense stare, as though analyzing her. She gazed back into his emerald eyes, amazed at how much she saw in that one look. A deep vulnerability that he didn’t hide at all, he allowed her to see the emotional baggage he carried and how he protected himself. She knew that if he chose to submit to her, it would be an act of immense trust. She realized that he probably saw just as much in her as she saw in him, that this man saw right down to her core, the way John did. She wondered what he wanted to see, if he was judging her. For such a seemingly light and happy young man, his gaze was that of someone older. Someone wiser.

He evidently saw what he was looking for, because he grinned. “As long as everything is safe and sane, it’s definitely consensual for me.” He winked at Rose and she felt her cheeks heating up pleasantly. “You’re a beautiful and desirable woman, Rose, any man would be lucky to be with you. I just don’t want to come between you two,” he said, seriously. “I’ve seen your demonstrations…” He shook his head. “What you have is magic.”

John turned and smiled at her, lovingly. “I couldn’t agree more.”

They spent some time going over each other’s lists, what they did and didn’t like, and Matt’s threshold for pain, which was extremely tolerant. Rose smiled up at John, then at Matt.

“I think this will work,” she said. “I really… feel comfortable with you.”

“I feel the same,” said Matt, reaching across the table for Rose’s hand. She admired his long fingers, how their hands fit almost as well as hers and John’s. “I think this will be a good experience for both of us.” He glanced at John and hastily corrected himself. “That is, all three of us. I appreciate that you’ll be there as well.”

John inclined his head. “It’s not often we invite someone to our home, I wager our trust will not be misplaced in you.” His tone was even, but with a rumbling undercurrent. He didn’t have to say that he wouldn’t let anyone get away with threatening their private lives.

“No, I understand,” said Matt. “Thank you.”

With Rose’s heart thudding, they made plans to meet the following night.

* * *

John, dressed in his usual pinstripes, led Matt into his and Rose’s bedroom when he arrived at their house. Matt was wearing the same gray waistcoat from the previous night, but open over a light colored Oxford that was tucked into dark jeans. Both men stopped inside the door, arrested by the sight that met them.

Rose was dressed in a light black wrap top that bared her midriff and a short pearly-blue skirt that matched her heels. She extended her hand to John, who came forward and took it, raising it to his lips. She smiled and walked him over to an armchair that had been placed at the other end of the room, near the bed. With him settled, she turned back to Matt, focusing her caramel-colored eyes on him. She smirked as his deep purple bow tie bobbed when he swallowed hard.

She reached up and straightened it. “I like this,” she said. The purple really made his green eyes stand out. “Not many men wear bow ties. I think that’s what I’ll call you while we play: beau.” She spelled it for him, then stepped back. “Take everything off, except the tie.”

He moved instantly to follow her command while she walked back against the bed and sat on the edge, watching him with a heated gaze. He undid the buttons of his Oxford, then worked the collar out from under the bow tie. He removed the shirt and waistcoat in one go, revealing his pale chest with a scant amount of hair right down the center and lightly defined abs. A few dark moles stood out, like stars, in stark contrast. He stepped out of his trainers and pulled off his jeans and pants, standing before her with just the bow tie at his throat. His cock was only half hard, pointing down in an arc. She thought he wasn’t as long as John but perhaps a bit wider.

Rose stood back up and walked around him, appraising every inch of him. “Mmm,” she purred, appreciatively. She traced her fingers lightly up his back and plunged them into his hair, grabbing a handful of the soft strands. She smiled as he gave a little whimper and sank to his knees, his eyes fluttering shut reflexively against the pain of the grab. “Well,” said Rose in a low, husky voice. “Aren’t you a beautiful boy.”

He licked his lips, cracking his eyes open to look at her. “What am I to call you?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.

She tightened her grip. “I don’t want to hear a word out of you unless it’s to say ‘yes, Miss,’ do you understand me?”

“Yes, Miss,” he said, breathlessly.

She glanced over at John, who was leaning an elbow on the arm of his chair, his chin in his hand. He gave a slight nod and she smiled, glad to have that little bit of reassurance. She pulled Matt up and instructed him to stand at the foot of their four poster bed, facing it. She strapped him into the cuffs at the top of the posts and at the feet, leaving him spread eagle with his bare arse towards her. She bit her lower lip, looking at the well-sculpted specimen, finally understanding the appeal John talked about, of turning such pale skin a lovely shade of pink.

Going over to where one of their closets stood, she opened the doors wide, revealing a staggering assortment of gear and toys. She pretended to debate which item to use, just so Matt could look at what they had and wonder what she would choose, letting the tension ramp up a bit.

After selecting the wooden paddle she’d set aside earlier, she returned to Matt. He gripped the connectors on the cuffs, bracing himself for the first hit, his toes digging into their plush Persian rug. Rose took a deep breath. This was the moment of truth. She’d practiced with the gear, hitting pillows over and over, trying to hit the same spot with accuracy, but this was a live, breathing human being. Having been on the receiving end, could she strike him, knowing he wanted it? Knowing only _she_ could give it to him.

She looked up at John, who was leaning forward slightly, his fingers steepled and resting against his lips. His eyes were beyond dark, seeing all the way inside her like they always did. A shiver went down her spine. It took her a moment to recognize it. Anticipation.

With a smirk, she twirled the paddle in her hand, brought it back and sent it flying through the air, the wind providing little resistance with the holes drilled into the wood.

_Crack!_

A soft, involuntary noise escaped Matt and his head tilted back as he lifted himself up on his toes. The sound he made, coupled with the smack of the paddle against his gorgeous arse, triggered a response within Rose, a sudden, heady feeling.

_Power._

So different than what she experienced as the bottom. It made her giddy. She gave him several softer volleys on each cheek, beginning to ramp up the pain gradually the way John had taught her. She lost herself in it, enjoying the perfect sound of polished wood hitting skin, of a man in the throes of pain-fueled passion. Standing at his side, she noticed that Matt’s eyes were shut as bright color began to stain his backside. And from the state of his now fully firm cock, she knew he was enjoying it. Perhaps a little too much.

She stopped abruptly and switched to a riding crop. The lighter weight tool zipped through the air, delivering its sharp sting. Matt called out again and hissed in a breath through his teeth. She ran a gentle hand over the line she’d just made and he shivered, leaning into her touch. When she struck him again, he stifled his reaction better, letting the pain melt into the background. She striped his pink arse, delivering several blows to his muscular thighs as well.

When she saw that he was breathing hard, she stopped and came around to the side again to see his face. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes still shut tight, his mouth slightly open, his lower lip full and wet. She ran the leather slapper of the crop from the bottom of his shaft to the top and a strangled noise tore from him. His back went rigid and he thrust helplessly forward as she teased him.

“Enjoying this, beau?” she asked, sweetly.

He swallowed hard. “Yes, Miss,” he whispered. He bit his lip, obviously refraining from saying anything else, as he’d been instructed. From the way he was straining at his bonds, he desperately wanted her touch on him, not the stroke of the crop. His cock bobbed against his stomach and his throat worked, but he remained silent.

Rose smiled. “Well done.” He gave a muffled moan at her praise. She moved back around behind him, setting the crop aside, and brought both her hands to his arse. He whimpered again and she purred as she felt the slight warmth emanating from his skin. “I have something special for you, beau, for being so good.”

She went to the closet and retrieved the unusual leather flogger that John had purchased just for her. He’d said she could use it tonight if she wanted and she was interested in seeing Matt’s reaction. At the end of each braided suede flail was a small, tight, red leather rosebud, a dozen in all. John had cheekily said they were the only flowers she was likely to get from him, and she was just fine with that, especially after he used it on her. It was like being beaten with a multitude of tiny fists and nothing else compared.

When she hit him with it the first time, an odd sound left him, it started as a cry, but ended on a shuddering sigh. The second time, it was a pure moan of pleasure and Rose grinned, letting the flails fall harder, wanting to bring his arse to that perfect coral red.

Every sound he made, mingling with the thud of the flogger on his skin, drove Rose to new heights of enjoyment. She never knew she could get turned on from being on the other end of things, but she was so wet, she knew her tiny black knickers underneath her mini skirt were soaked. Her nipples were hard and tight, straining against the fabric of her top. What she would give to have John fuck her now!

Her eyes flicked over to where he sat and she paused in mid-swing. John’s hands were tight on the armrests, his knuckles whitened. She knew he was clenching his jaw from the way the dimple in his cheek stood out. Then she looked at his lap and saw his erection bulging against his trousers. She looked back up at his face, seeing in his expression that he hadn’t foreseen this and was holding himself back. Every instinct in him was crying out to take his flower, but he wouldn’t break into her scene, wouldn’t ruin things for her when she was doing so well. He was calling on every bit of professionalism he possessed to stay where he was, in the chair. To be there as an observer, not as her Dom. A slow, wicked grin spread across her face as she suddenly knew exactly what she wanted.

She laid the rose flogger aside and climbed up onto the bed on her knees. Matt’s head was hanging down, his long hair obscuring his face. She grabbed a handful of it and tilted his head back, his eyes popping open on a gasp. Pressing her cheek to his, she angled his face so that he could see John.

“See him, beau?” she said, cuddling up to his chest, but purposely keeping her body away from his hard length. “See how hot my Doctor is, watching me do this to you? You like that, don’t you?”

John sat up straight, hearing her call him ‘her Doctor.’ His dark eyes sent a clear warning, _Don’t start something you don’t intend to finish, flower._ Oh, but she intended to finish. That was precisely the reaction she was hoping for.

Matt sucked in a deep breath. “Yes, Miss,” he said in a thick voice.

She undulated against him, rubbing her breasts along his pectorals, enjoying the way he strained to get closer, to touch more of her any way he could. “What if I tied you up and left you while I let him touch me?” she said, putting her mouth next to his ear, letting her breath tease him.

He immediately jerked against the restraints at that. “No, no, please!” he said in growing desperation. “Let me, Miss, please!”

Rose pulled away from him at once, delivering a stinging slap to his cheek. “I told you not to speak!” she snapped sharply. He lowered his gaze, whimpering, but she pulled his head back by his hair once again, making him meet her angry gaze. “You’ve earned a punishment, beau.”

She slid off the bed and retrieved a few things from the closet, then returned to Matt and released the panic snaps on the restraints. He lowered his arms.

“Bend over, put your hands on the bed, and spread your legs wide,” she ordered.

He did as she bade, presenting his pink arse for punishment. Rose held a small glass plug in one hand and flipped the lid on a bottle of their preferred brand of lubricant with the other. She squeezed a liberal amount onto the plug, then set the bottle aside. When she placed the cool glass toy at the puckered entrance to his arse, it tightened as he gasped, then relaxed right away, knowing what was coming. Slowly, she eased it inside him, her clit twitching with every noise he made, ending on a breathy cry as the toy slid into place and the flared base kept it in. He shuddered, pressing his lips together, as the plug pulsed up and down when his arse spasmed around it.

“On the bed,” she said, stepping back and grabbing a small towel to wipe excess lubricant from her hands. “Lie on your back.”

He climbed onto the bed, moving a tad awkwardly because of the plug, and twisted around to lie down. He hissed in a breath when his arse touched the mattress and Rose smirked, hoping he’d feel that sting for at least the next day. She fastened the cuffs at his wrists and ankles to the large rings set in each post of the bed, once again spreading out his limbs. Then she turned and focused on the Doctor. For that was who he was. The veil had fallen, leaving a man radiating power, looking at her like he wanted to devour her.

She knelt down in front of him and a soft growl emanated from deep in his throat. He stood from the chair, no longer watching, but a participant. He removed his jacket and tossed it aside in a move that could only be described as _swagger_.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, flower,” he said in a rough voice.

She only smiled, unwilling to contradict him, even if she didn’t consider it a game. His hands that she loved so much reached up and undid his tie, then started on the buttons of his shirt.

“I should beat you raw for teasing me like this,” he said and she throbbed in response, a fresh wave of moisture dampening her knickers. “But I said at the beginning of this that tonight wasn’t about me.” He threw the shirt and tie in the direction of his jacket and unfastened his trousers while he stepped out of his trainers. “So, what is it you want here, flower?”

“I want both of you,” she said, without hesitation. “I need both of you, filling me up, fucking me until I see stars, til I can’t walk.”

He shucked his trousers and pants and stepped toward her, reaching out and threading one hand through her hair to guide her forward. She pressed a kiss just under the head of his cock. A drop of precome glistened in the light and Rose licked her lips in anticipation.

“Then that’s what you’ll get,” he said. “Just remember… You asked.” He winked and she remembered when he’d said that at the airport, just before opening his suitcase and opening her eyes to this erotic life and love with him.

Her stomach clenched with excitement as she opened her mouth and let him push inside. She’d had a lot of practice since they’d begun their life together, and practice, she’d found, made perfect when trying to overcome a gag reflex. She took him deep, feeling him at the back of her throat with no difficulty. She sucked and swiped her tongue along the underside, moaning as he fucked her mouth.

“Remove your top, but keep going,” he said, roughly.

Rose undid the tie at her side and unwrapped the soft black top, revealing her bare breasts, her nipples tightening further in the cooler air.

“Now the rest of it,” he said, keeping a slow, steady pace.

It took a little creative bending, but Rose managed to wiggle out of her skirt and knickers, leaving her ice-blue heels on.

“Very good, flower.” He groaned as he began to thrust harder. “Look at me,” he instructed and she did, looking up with her eyes of dark gold. He panted at the sight of his cock moving in and out between her plump lips. “Now, look at _him,”_ he growled.

Matt. She’d nearly forgotten. Her eyes slid to the side where she could see him tied to the bed, squirming and whimpering pitifully. His lightly throbbing erection looked painfully hard and her core ached, clenching around nothing, wanting to be filled. A trickle of moisture ran down one of her inner thighs and she rubbed them together, seeking to give herself a little relief, but it only made the licking flames of her arousal grow hotter.

She felt the Doctor’s cock tighten in her mouth and he abruptly pulled her head back, withdrawing his erection from between her lips. He closed his eyes tightly, his mouth taut, as he fought to gain control over his oncoming orgasm. A rush of pleasure surged through her, seeing him having to fight so hard to keep from coming. He released her hair and stood back.

“Condom,” he said, shortly, his voice a low rumble. “Straddle him and put it on the _right_ way.”

Rose got unsteadily to her feet and quickly fetched a condom from their night stand. She crawled on top of Matt, sitting on his legs, and ripped the foil packet open. His eyes widened as she popped the latex into her mouth and leaned over him.

“Ohhhh!” he cried as she took his cock into her hot mouth, sheathing him with the condom at the same time. His chest rose and fell quickly with his fast breathing and he strained at the cuffs, trying desperately not to come right away.

The fact that she had two gorgeous men so aroused and fighting orgasm made Rose feel amazingly powerful. The fact that they were both going to fuck her at the same time sent shivers up and down her spine.

She felt the Doctor’s hand at the small of her back, urging her forward, until her dripping wet folds hovered just above Matt’s cock. The man beneath her bit his lower lip, his forehead sheened with sweat, while the man behind her joined them on the large bed. Rose moaned, her eyes fluttering shut, as his hands came around her, cupping her breasts and pinching her nipples. It felt like her head was floating.

“Is this really what you want, flower?” he asked, bringing one hand down to her clit, stroking it lightly, far too lightly.

“Yes, Doctor!” She rutted her hips against his hand, desperately seeking more friction. “God, please, fuck me!”

“I’m going to fuck you hard.” His mouth was at her ear, his breath hot on her cheek.

She moaned again, loving it when he used filthy words, wrapping his tongue around them, making it seem even more obscene. Her arousal climbed to a fever pitch. “Yes, please, Doctor.”

“Position him, but don’t let him in.”

Eagerly, Rose lifted Matt’s cock until the tip was pressing right at her entrance. The Doctor gripped her arse, spreading the cheeks wide. He pressed himself against her, rubbing his slick cock up and down her crack. She could feel the condom he’d slipped on himself along with the lubricant. She couldn’t hold back another moan as he placed the head at her back entrance. All the male hardness around her was so incredibly erotic, Rose didn’t know if she could stand another moment of the tension. She thought she might break apart into a million tiny pieces.

“Please, Doctor, please,” she begged, leaning her head back until it rested on his shoulder.

With his hands at her hips, the Doctor pressed down at the same time he thrust up, seating both of them inside her with perfect timing. Rose screamed. Strong arms came around her, holding her still, as she felt herself filled, stretched, by two cocks, from two beautiful men, who were about to fuck her senseless.

The Doctor rocked forward, encouraging her to ride Matt as he began to thrust in tandem in and out of her arse. “Fuck, Rose,” he bit out. “You’re so damn tight.”

Rose barely heard him for the blood rushing in her ears. Guttural, animalistic grunts were all she was capable of making as wave after wave of sensation crashed through her, threatening to overwhelm her and bring her to climax. She opened her eyes and focused on the man below her, whose eyes were shut tight. Grabbing his chin to get his attention, she gritted out, “You don’t come… until I do… Understand, beau?”

He nodded. “Yes… Miss…” he gasped.

“And you don’t come until I do,” said the Doctor.

She groaned but answered, “Yes, Doctor… I’ll… I’ll try!”

“You will,” he insisted, thrusting harder, his bollocks slapping against her.

Their sweat-slicked skin slid together and Rose seemed to lose her grip on herself, her mind floating away on a cloud of bliss as both men fucked her harder and harder. Her juices flooded, coating Matt’s cock and her thighs. The scent of sex was heavy in the room. She tried to hang on, but it was all too much.

“I can’t--!” she cried, her eyes blurring with sudden tears. She didn’t want to fail! Not when she’d done so well. “I can’t-- Doctor-- please-- let me come!”

“Hold on, flower, I know you can!” he said, and just when she thought she might explode, he shouted his release and her body shattered, her senses on utter overload. Her whole being shook as Matt came as well. She felt the throb of both cocks inside of her and it only made her orgasm pulse even more, extending it until she saw stars bursting behind her eyelids. It was the most intense, most amazing orgasm she’d ever experienced, so powerful, her body bucked with one aftershock after another.

The Doctor held her tightly, his chest heaving in time with hers, as they struggled to regain their breath. She couldn’t have gotten a word out if she’d wanted to. Spasms continued to rock her, her core clenching around both cocks still buried inside her. When the Doctor gently released her, she drifted down on top of Matt, his spent cock slipping out of her as the Doctor carefully eased his out of her arse.

She snuggled against Matt’s chest, her mind deliciously blank, her heavy breathing matching his. Dimly, she was aware of the Doctor leaving the bed and taking care of both condoms, then returning to rub his warm hand on her back. She wanted nothing more than to drift off to sleep, but as Matt’s Domme, she had responsibilities to take care of. She was grateful to the Doctor for reminding her.

With some difficulty, she raised her head, then her torso and sat up. She closed her eyes briefly and waited for the dizziness to recede, then she looked at the Doctor. “Water?” she asked, and he nodded, striding out of the room.

First, she sought between Matt’s legs and carefully removed the glass plug. He called out softly, but subsided into silence once it was out. She left it to soak in a tupperware of cleaning agent in the ensuite, then returned to him. She unbuckled Matt’s wrist and ankle cuffs, then sat at the head of the bed and stroked his long, soft hair. He gave a little purr and turned onto his side, nuzzling her thigh with his nose and cheek like an affectionate cat.

The Doctor returned shortly with three bottles of water, two of which he handed to her before sitting at the foot of the bed and drinking his.

“Beau?” she said, softly.

“Mmm?” came the hazy answer.

She chuckled. “I need you to sit up and drink this.”

He was about as sluggish to rise as she was, but he managed to sit up and take the bottle of water from her. “Yes, Miss,” he said, meekly.

She smiled and drank her own water, the beverage helping to cool down her hot skin. When they’d finished, she took Matt’s empty bottle and handed both off to the Doctor, who went into the ensuite. Cupping Matt’s face, she pulled him in for a sweet, chaste kiss and he melted against her. Her hands moved lower, until she tugged at the tail of the bow tie, letting it come undone. She dragged it from his neck as she pulled back from their kiss. Holding it out over the side of the bed, she let it fall to the floor.

Pushing lightly on his chest, she encouraged him to lie back down, scooting him toward the side of the bed and settling herself in the middle. She cradled him in her arms and he leaned up, kissing her cheek.

“Thank you, Miss,” he said, almost shyly, as the Doctor came back into the room.

She held out a hand to him and he climbed back onto the bed, spooning up behind her. Turning her head, she surrendered to his kiss, sucking on his lower lip before he delved his tongue into her mouth. He kissed her slowly, tenderly, thanking her and congratulating her all at once.

He stroked her jaw with one hand, gazing down at her with pride. “Shower?” he asked.

“Sleepy,” she said. “Later. Definitely later.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said, smiling, as he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her backside into the cradle of his hips.

Rose’s eyelids were already drifting shut, a soft sigh slipping through her lips, as she passed into a deep and exhausted sleep, totally and completely sated.

For now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the Eleventh Day of Wankfest, my true love gave to me - a third chapter of Claimed!
> 
> Matt does something naughty and has to suffer the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was invited to participate in Wankfest 2014 and given the Eleventh Doctor for the Eleventh Day, I got really inspired to write this bit as part of the Claimed verse. It's from Matt's point of view, so although Ten does appear in this chapter, it's mostly about Matt, since this is the Eleventh Day of Wankfest fic. ^_^ I hope you enjoy!
> 
> There is a scene inspired by grumplevonstiltskin's A Choker of Lace, which is a story everyone should read. http://archiveofourown.org/works/2318708

Matt had been tied up in knots all day. Not literally, unfortunately, but he hoped that would change by the end of the night.

Following their successful and incredibly enjoyable night when Rose had Topped him and then the Doctor had joined them, Matt, Rose, and John had a standing date to play every other Saturday. Because of conflicting schedules, however, they hadn’t been able to meet up for over a month. Matt had been lecturing in Europe while they’d been doing a stretch of conventions in America. Then Rose and John had wanted some downtime upon their return. Totally understandable.

But now it was Saturday again. Sexy Saturday, as Matt had come to think of it. And he was going to their house tonight. He’d been practically vibrating with excitement, a spike of anticipation hitting him whenever he thought about the possibilities he might encounter once stepping over that threshold.

Not that it started just when he entered the house, oh, no. Matt’s domination began the moment he woke up on a day he was to see his Miss. First thing, he checked his texts to see what she wanted him to wear. Then he would go about his normal day, except, he wasn’t allowed to touch himself. If he needed to use the toilet, he had to text her for permission, just for that basic touch. She’d send back _Two shakes, no more._ He had to make those shakes count, or else endure the stain from a drop of urine on his pants.

He groaned, thinking of his pants, the pants she’d told him to wear. They were made of black silk, she’d given them to him as a gift some time ago. Every time he moved, the slippery fabric caressed his cock, sending shivers up his spine. That, combined with the anticipation, kept him in a state of half-hardness all day. Not being able to touch himself only made it worse.

The classical music station on the radio was playing a flute concerto as he drove to the house that evening. He kept shifting in the seat, trying to get comfortable, but it was no use. She’d sent another text about a half hour before - _We can’t wait to see you._ He remembered the last time they’d been together. She’d teased him about looking too much at John and made Matt suck him off while she fucked his arse with a strap-on. He bit his lip as another jolt of arousal went straight to his needy cock.

This wasn’t a good sign, he knew. Rose always made him wait ages to come and there would be hell to pay if he went off too soon and without permission.

Maybe just a touch. Just to take the edge off the ache. They would never know. He was driving, he shouldn’t be this distracted while driving, it wasn’t safe. And safe was one of the keystones of BDSM! Safe, sane, consensual.

Justified, he pulled over into a mostly empty parking lot and snapped the radio off, just as the music came to an end and announcer was lauding the talents of the pipers. He had his jeans unfastened and his silky pants pulled away from his erection in moments. His eyes fluttered shut the second his hand closed around his hard length. He’d intended just a few strokes, just to let the friction soothe him, but it only heightened the need pulsing through him.

His head fell back against the headrest as he pumped faster. He let his legs fall further apart, bracing his feet on the floor of the car. Release was rising up fast and he pressed his lips together, biting down on them in an effort to muffle his moans. Like it wouldn’t count if he didn’t make any noise.

Silly. It didn’t matter. They’d never know anyway.

Or maybe they _would._ They might look at him and know instantly, reading the guilt on his face as clearly as if he’d written it across his forehead in bright red ink. What would Miss do to punish him?

With a surprised cry, the thought tipped him over the edge, his warm come oozing over his fist. He didn’t move for several moments as he just struggled to catch his breath. He let himself sag in his seat while he panted, his chest rising and falling quickly, then slowly calming down.

The blue bow tie she’d asked him to wear felt tight around his neck. He used his clean hand to hook a finger under it and pull slightly. He swallowed and looked down, then swallowed again. His stomach turned over and his face heated.

_Fuck._

He reached for the center console and pulled out a handful of takeaway napkins to clean himself up. He used another to dab at the sweat on his brow and the back of his neck, then stuffed the sticky wad into a drink holder. He tucked himself back into his pants and refastened his jeans, making sure his shirt was tucked in and any wrinkles were smoothed out. He took a deep breath.

He restarted his car. In another two minutes, he was in their driveway, walking toward the door on legs that wobbled the tiniest bit. He rang the doorbell and waited, trying his best not to think about how he’d deliberately disobeyed.

Rose answered the door with a brilliant smile, wearing a beautiful red floral dress trimmed with black lace, with a plunging halter-style neckline exposing a tantalizing amount of cleavage. She grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him inside, locking onto his lips as she closed the door after him. She hummed happily as he opened his mouth to her questing tongue, letting her lead the kiss and revelling in this unexpected treat. She usually kissed him after the scene. He guessed she’d missed him, too.

Then he felt her hand palming him through his trousers and he froze. She pulled back from the kiss, a tiny line forming between her brows. She kept her arm around his neck, not allowing him to step away, and continued to fondle him.

“So soft,” she said, a hard note entering her tone. “I wonder why that is.”

He felt his face flushing as he looked down, unable to hold her gaze. He was unable to keep from whimpering when she slid her hand down to grasp him tightly by his bollocks.

“Eh?” she prompted.

“I… t-touched myself,” he stammered.

“When?”

“In the car. Before I got here.”

“And did you come?” She squeezed him. Not too much, but a warning, definitely. He felt light-headed, weak. It was hard to catch a full breath.

“Yes, Miss,” he whispered.

“Bad, beau,” she said, her tone low. “You’ve ruined my plans. I had the whole evening set out and now I have to punish you.”

He ducked his head, feeling awful. He hated disappointing her.

She let go of him and stepped away all at once. He stumbled a bit from the sudden lack of contact. She pointed down the hall.

“Dining room,” she ordered. “You’re not going to spoil my dinner with your selfishness.”

He preceded her down the hall with his head bowed, feeling her eyes on him the whole way. John was laying out what looked like a delicious meal at the center of their dining table - roast, potatoes, carrots, salad, and a fruit tart for dessert. He took one look at Matt and Rose as they entered, narrowed his eyes, then removed the third place setting, returning it to the attached kitchen.

“Strip,” Rose said, sharply, as she moved around him to go to her place and Matt hastened to obey. John returned and assisted in pulling out her chair, then poured a glass of ginger ale for her once she was seated. He didn’t look at Matt or the growing pile of clothes at all.

Rose placed a hand on John’s arm when he would have moved to his seat. He leaned down and she whispered something in his ear. Oh, that probably wasn’t good. John nodded and left the room. No, it was probably very, very bad. Another shiver chased up Matt’s spine. He took a moment to be thankful that their house was adequately heated.

He removed everything but the bow tie. Once that went on, it was Rose’s to remove when and if she chose.

She snapped her fingers and pointed to her right. He went to her side at once. She curtly told him to turn his back and put his hands behind him, which he did, bending his elbows and grasping each wrist. By then, John had returned, and Matt heard a slight jingle, but couldn’t see what had made the noise. Matt let go of his arm as John fastened a leather cuff around one of Matt’s wrists, then the other. John placed one cuff on top of the other, forcing Matt’s arms that much further behind his back. Another jingle as the restraints were clicked together with a small carabiner. He curled his fingers around each opposite elbow, finding the most comfortable position automatically.

“Turn around and kneel,” said Rose. Matt followed the instruction, bowing his head. She cupped his chin and tilted his face up, her dark eyes betraying no playfulness. “Do you know why you’re being punished?” she asked.

“Yes, Miss,” he said.

“Tell me why.”

“Because I’m not allowed to touch myself on days when I am yours.”

“Do you know why I don’t allow this?”

He paused. He hadn’t really thought about it. Usually, he would only question an order if he didn’t understand it, otherwise it was just followed. “Because…” he said, slowly. “I belong to you?”

Her small smile had a flash of pride. “That’s right, beau. Everything about you belongs to me.” She frowned again. “But since you seem to be having _difficulty_ keeping your hands off the things that are _mine,_ you’ll be restrained the whole night. Do you understand?”

He bit back a whine. That meant he wouldn’t be able to touch her at all. But the punishment certainly fit the crime. “Yes, Miss.”

She had him kneel at her side the entire dinner while she and John ate and discussed mundane things. Every few bites, she would feed Matt from her own plate, which she’d filled with twice the normal amount. Another part of the punishment, not being able to participate in the conversation and having to be fed like a pet at her feet.

Part of him relished it, the pain in his knees, the slight ache growing in his back, the pull in his shoulders from having his arms restrained. A constant reminder of how he’d fucked up. Every moment endured was a step toward earning Rose’s forgiveness. He knew if he was good during his punishment, he’d be rewarded, so he welcomed the discomfort. It was nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the sweet fulfillment of her proud smile, of knowing he’d done well.

“Time for dessert,” Rose said at length. “John, would you clear the table while I slice the tart?”

“Of course.”

She took care in cutting one small piece and one larger piece as John moved all the dishes from dinner to the kitchen. She leaned over and set the small piece at John’s place, the bigger one she set to the side of her placemat before pushing her chair back. Looking down at Matt, she patted the table directly in front of her.

“Up,” she instructed him.

He winced as he got to his feet, his muscles screaming in protest for moving after being in one spot for so long, but he let the pain fade into the background. It wasn’t important. With a minimum of awkwardness, he hopped up onto the table, scootching around until he was seated on Rose’s placemat, just where she’d indicated.

With a smile, she moved her chair back in, settling herself between his spread legs. John returned then and took his seat. He began eating his piece of dessert, but was watching Matt and Rose with interest in his dark eyes.

Rose plucked a mango slice from the tart with her fingers. She looked up at Matt as she put the slice in her mouth and sucked the cream from it, then withdrew it and slowly slid it back in. That got his attention. His up-to-that-moment softened cock twitched as he watched her full lips and pink tongue working that little piece of fruit. Finally, she chewed and swallowed it, her tongue darting out to catch a drip of juice. Then she chose another piece of mango and held it up. “Your turn.”

He obediently opened his mouth, but instead of feeding him, she drew the fruit around his lips, teasing him. She took the mango away and he licked his lips clean. They tasted ripe and sweet, like summer somewhere exotic.

When she put it to his lips again, he took it into his mouth, drawing the slice in, letting his tongue and lips play around it before tilting his head back to let it slide slowly out. Rose never took her eyes off of him, her pupils widening with desire. He sucked in a breath as she touchedthe cold fruit to one of his flat nipples, painting it and then its mate in wet circles. His cock went from ‘interested’ to half-mast when she brought her warm mouth over each nipple in turn, sucking the juice off. She took her time, using her amazing tongue to full effect, occasionally giving him a taste of exquisite pain with her teeth.

He moaned as her hair fell over her shoulder and brushed his quickly hardening length. He wished he could tangle his fingers in that hair. Rose knew just how to slowly drive him mad, getting him hot and ready all over again with so little effort.

Pulling back, she popped the mango into her mouth, smirking as she picked up another slice. His back went rigid as she dragged it across the head of his cock, back and forth and around, then painted the length of it with teasing strokes. He bit his lip on a whimper. It was such a barely-there touch, and yet the contrast of the cool fruit on his heated flesh made it feel ultra-sensitive.

A bead of pre-come leaked out of his tip and she swiped it up with the fruit, then put it in her mouth, sucking his flavor off. “Mmm,” she said, licking her lips. “You taste so good.”

“Please, Miss,” he whispered, his head tilting back, his cock straining.

A strangled cry escaped him as she engulfed him in her mouth, sucking ravenously. He hadn’t expected her to actually relieve some of the building pressure, he thought she’d draw it out, in light of his punishment. He thought again that it had been a while, maybe she thought they’d waited long enough. In and out she worked him, fondling his bollocks with her free hand, alternating gentle and firmer touches in just the perfect rhythm.

She hummed around him as though enjoying her favorite dessert and perhaps she was. Mango covered beau. He shivered and rocked his hips, unable to do much, perched as he was on the table with his hands behind his back. The sensation was incredible, but he still wanted more. He desperately wanted her.

Rose lifted her head with a pop, looking gorgeous with her cheeks flushed and her eyes dark. She took advantage of Matt’s slightly parted mouth by sticking the mango she still held inside it. He had to focus to chew and swallow.

“Lay back,” she said in a slightly breathless voice.

He did, arching his back over his arms that were now pinned under him. He knew he could stay that way for a while before they were in danger of going numb. If he strained his neck, he could see his cock standing almost straight up, begging for more attention.

For a brief moment, he just waited while there was a clatter of plates being moved, and then Rose was crawling over him. She’d removed her dress, leaving her beautifully, gloriously naked. Matt loved seeing her like that, she was so comfortable in her own skin. More than anything else, that was what made her shine.

He groaned as he felt her neatly trimmed curls brush his cock, then her hot wetness a second later. She nestled him between her labia, his head nudging her clit. She rutted against him, making him squeeze his eyes shut. Delicious friction, but not nearly enough.

Then John was behind her, standing at the edge of the table. His thighs were on either side of Matt’s knees where his legs dangled. Matt couldn’t see much of him from his vantage, but then he felt the other man’s fingers, feeling for Rose’s sopping entrance. She moaned at John’s entry, his fingers curling over her hips as he thrust hard, over and over, making her breasts swing; close to Matt’s face, but not close enough for him to take a plump nipple into his mouth. This truly was torture. She called out, filthy words falling from her lips, as she begged him for his come. It was all Matt could do to remind himself that she was asking for John to come, and not him.

The eroticism of watching her above him, of feeling the two of them having sex quite literally on top of him, the occasional brush of John’s cock against his as he entered and withdrew, made Matt’s arousal become so intense, he could hardly catch a full breath.

He saw John stiffen, hold back, thrust again, then groan as his orgasm swept through him. Immediately, Rose went rigid, her mouth open, her head thrown back. Watching her come apart while Matt was still coherent enough to observe what she really looked like in the throes of orgasm was an amazing thing.

When John slipped free of her, a rush of warm liquid bathed his cock and Matt arched his back a little further in naughty delight. The humiliation of having their combined juices covering him felt incredible. It was so freeing, to enjoy something that most would feel shame for. He wanted Rose to rub it all over him, to mark him as theirs, to use him as their toy. Because he could be used and filthy and they would _still_ want him. It made him happy. He loved that feeling… of being hers.

It cooled quickly when Rose climbed down from the table, then John was helping Matt to his feet and holding a bottle of water to Matt’s lips. He drank greedily, his eyes darting around because Rose was nowhere to be seen, but presently, he heard her footsteps coming back down the stairs. The first thing he saw when she returned to the dining room was the wooden paddle in her hand.

The word ‘mine’ was laser-cut in reverse into the wood, in big block letters.

_Yes._

She tilted her chin at his legs. “Spread ‘em,” she said, giving the paddle a twirl.

Matt shifted so that his legs were shoulder width apart as John moved aside, getting out of Rose’s way. Matt’s cock stood up and out from his body, also getting out of Rose’s way. She went to Matt’s side, her free hand trailing up his spine, sending goosebumps in its wake, up his neck and into his hair where she grabbed a handful, tilting his head back. She kissed the long line of his neck as she caressed his leg with the smooth paddle. He shivered.

“This is to remind you of just what you are,” she said, just before bringing the paddle down incredibly hard on his left thigh.

He called out sharply, his eyes closing on the tears that sprang up instantly, as intense pain bloomed where she’d struck him. Normally, Rose would ramp up the pain, but in order to get a clear imprint of the word carved into the wood, she had to hit him a single time with great force. He grit his teeth. He could bear it. He wanted that word on him, as many times as she saw fit. Pain was the price he’d gladly pay.

By the time his breathing had returned to normal, the pain had faded into heat and Rose had moved to his other side. She repeated the process, grabbing his hair, nibbling his neck, hitting his right thigh with the paddle. She tilted his head down, telling him to look. He did as she said, waiting for the haze of tears to clear.

On his pale white thighs, framing his raging erection, were two bright red rectangular squares with rounded edges. At their centers was the word ‘mine,’ one rightside up, the other upside down. He gulped in a breath as more tears brimmed his eyes, this time from gratitude rather than pain. He was so grateful to her for seeing to his needs, for letting him belong.

“Is the message coming through now, beau?” she asked, lightly massaging his scalp with her fingernails. “Have you learned your lesson?”

He swallowed thickly, keeping his head bowed as he slowly shook it back and forth. “No, Miss. Please… Help me remember.”

She tightened her grip in his hair and pulled his head back up. She was suddenly in front of him, kissing him even more heatedly than when he’d first arrived, stroking his tongue with hers and caressing the roof of his mouth until he moaned.

“That’s my good beau,” she whispered against his lips and he whimpered, his legs nearly buckling because she’d called him good. He wanted to kneel in front of her and worship her with his mouth, but he didn’t because it wasn’t about what he wanted. He leaned against the table behind him, keeping himself upright.

She took a step away and gestured with the paddle. “I want you to turn around and bend over, chest on the table, legs spread.”

It wasn’t easy with his arms behind his back, but he only sort of fell down the last few inches. The tabletop was cool beneath his cheek and chest, a stark contrast to the tops of his thighs, which still tingled with warmth. As she ran the paddle over his arse, he trembled with the anticipation of having an ache whenever he sat down for the next day. The reminder he’d begged for, that he was hers.

She struck him four more times, twice on each cheek, each time in a different spot. By the time she set the paddle down on the table, he was sobbing in earnest, crying “Thank you, Miss,” over and over. He barely heard the scrape of a chair across the floor until Rose and John were helping him into it. Matt hissed in a breath as the pain from sitting seeped into him, then cried out again as Rose straddled his legs, sitting right where it still hurt on his thighs. He gasped out another thanks, because she’d given him exactly what he’d needed, the reminder of her marks on him.

Rose caressed his face with her hands, wiping away his tears, kissing his cheeks and murmuring, “Very good, beau, you were wonderful, you took everything I gave you. Let everything out, let it all go, give it all to me. You understand? Everything you are belongs to me.”

“Yes, Miss, yes,” he babbled. “All yours, Miss. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I disobeyed--”

“Shh,” she soothed him, running her fingers through his hair gently. “That’s done now. You’ve had your punishment. It’s gone. You’re my good beau.”

They stayed like that for several minutes, with Rose soothing him with gentle hands and sweet words, and John was behind him, reaching between Matt and the back of the chair to massage his arms and wrists, making sure that his hands still had feeling in them.

When Matt felt like he could breathe easy again and the pain in his thighs and backside had faded somewhat, he noticed that his still-hard cock was settled against her mound. A soft whimper escaped him as he felt her moisture drip down his bollocks and he shifted slightly in his seat.

Rose smiled, apparently he’d given her the signal she’d been waiting for. She held out her hand to John and he passed her a condom. By the time she’d sheathed him in the latex, Matt was more than ready, all heavier emotions taking a backseat to the eager fire stoking his passion back to life. He wanted to thrust into her with everything he had, to lose all control and pound into her until he came, long, shuddering, and primal. But he would wait. He would follow her cues, wait for her to find her passion again before he would have his. He wouldn’t disappoint her again.

She shifted herself up on her feet, reached down and circled the base of his cock with her hand, positioned him, then slowly slid down on top of him. He moaned at the feel of her surrounding him and he curled his toes, trying to gain traction on the floor in order to move, to thrust, wishing _she_ would move. But she didn’t. She waited while Matt panted, going mad for her, gaining urgency. Then she drew herself up and moved back down, just the once, before going still.

He wiggled underneath her and whined in the back of his throat. She slapped his cheek. Not hard, but a reminder. He was grateful for it. This was not about him. She would see to his needs, he just had to trust her. He took a deep breath and she kissed the corner of his mouth, his cheek, then nibbled his earlobe.

“It’s not a race,” she murmured, the words ghosted across his ear as she moved up slowly and moved back down, just as slowly.

Yes. They had all night. If she wanted him to wait all night to come, then he would. Somehow. Because she knew better than he did what he needed. He forced his body to relax, to lean back in the chair. He breathed out the desperation and concentrated on calming the fierce need to rush into climax.

Rose kept her heavily lidded eyes on Matt the whole time, which only amplified the intensity as she moved up, then down again, so slow. Then she kissed him, lingering, taking her time with his mouth as well, matching the caress of her tongue to the maddeningly slow movements of her body.

Matt allowed his muscles to release, to go completely limp a bit at a time, as he accepted her rhythm. The urgent need he’d felt dissipated, though his arousal remained impossibly high. Each time Rose moved, he sucked in a little gasp at the thrills spiraling through him. His body cried out for satisfaction, but he held tight to his control. He’d given up his pleasure to Rose, it was hers. Somehow, it was enough for him to linger just inches from the peak, to just enjoy how it felt to have her withdraw and come back, over and over.

His head fell back against the chair, his eyes fluttering shut. Withdraw. Return. Repeat. He lost track of time, totally submerged in her and the sensations she provoked. How long had it been since he stepped through their doorway? He didn’t know, he didn’t care. Up and down, up and down.

Her arms came around his shoulders tighter as she nipped at his neck, tasting his skin. She planted soft kisses along his jaw and under his ear. And still she kept going, so incredibly slowly, but he felt wonderful, joined with her. Not just in body, but in spirit. His head was full of Rose and his time together with her and John and Matt never wanted it to stop.

He’d given himself over to the feelings so completely, Matt didn’t realize when she began to speed up, her breath starting to come in short pants. She was getting close and fresh arousal mixed with heady anticipation shot through him, landing hot and heavy where they were connected.

Reaching a frenzied pace, Rose moaned and swept her head back, her curtain of golden hair swinging through the air. She cried out, grabbing his hair in both fists and pulling his head closer, as the pressure climbed higher, harder and faster, the slow tingle in his spine telling him with certainty that he wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer. Just as the burning, bursting wave of pleasure began to crest and breathless pleas started to fall from his lips, Rose’s back arched and she went totally still as she screamed out her completion. With a harsh cry of his own, Matt gave himself over to the sensations of his body, selfishly and greedily losing himself utterly.

When his eyes fluttered open, his wrists had been released, though Rose hadn’t moved. Her face was nestled against his shoulder, her breathing long and deep. He didn’t think she’d fallen asleep, her core was still occasionally clenching around him spasmodically. John must have unbuckled the restraints. Matt suppressed a chuckle. The other man had moved through the scene like a ghost. Matt hoped that he didn’t feel left out, he hated disappointing anyone.

Matt brought his arms up and trailed his fingers along Rose’s hips. “Miss?” he whispered, his question evident in his hesitant touch.

“Mm-hmm,” she assented, taking his hands and wrapping his arms around her back.

He leaned his head against hers, revelling in the ability to touch her satiny skin, and he moaned a contented little purr as he stroked her, up and down her spine. It was a gift, this touch. He’d never take it for granted again, with her or himself.

A moment more, then she lifted her head to smile at him. Her eyes were still dark, like amber, as she gazed at him, sated and happy. He smiled back, unable to look away, not wanting to.

Leaning in, she kissed him gently, taking first his top lip between hers, then the bottom, keeping it light and teasing. As she did so, he felt the tug at his bow-tie. Her traditional kiss before she removed his ‘collar’ and ended the scene. He tilted his head slightly to increase the pressure between their mouths before the moment was over and the blue tie fell from her fingers onto the floor.

He buried his face against her neck, holding her tighter, as he hummed his appreciation. She giggled lightly, rubbing his back.

“Good?” she asked.

“Amazing,” he rumbled. “You continue to surprise and impress me.”

From the doorway to the hall, John cleared his throat. “Alright?” he asked when Matt and Rose looked up. He came over, wearing his striped pajama bottoms, and handed them each a hand towel, wet with warm water.

“Oh, Mr. Perfect Dom always thinks of everything,” said Rose, wrinkling her nose playfully at John as she eased herself off of Matt. She paused to stroke his cheek after, and he leaned into her touch. Just that brief moment meant so much to him, to stave off the irrational feeling of abandonment once he was no longer inside her.

“I just have a lot of experience, I’m not perfect. Having an extra set of hands during a scene is invaluable,” John said. “I just hope you both appreciate what I’ve been doing for the last ten minutes.”

“You know we do,” Rose said as she took care of Matt’s condom with the towel, then folded the cloth and wiped him down with it. She allowed him to do the same for her with the towel he held. “What were you up to, then?”

“Just a little surprise for my beloved switch and our favorite sub,” he said, giving them a cheeky wink. “Leave the cloths with the dishes, it’s time for some after care.”

Rose nodded in agreement and reached for Matt, helping him to his feet. She tossed their used hand towels onto John’s empty dessert plate and they followed John into the living room.

The only light in the room was coming from the fireplace, where a bright fire warmed the area. All of the couch cushions from the big sectional had been pulled onto the floor and covered with blankets. A cozy little nest, without having to go up to the bedroom.

They all snuggled down together with Rose in the middle as per usual. They talked about the scene briefly, with both men telling Rose how brilliant she was, how she’d stayed in character the whole time, and how fitting her punishments were. She might not have the years of experience they did, but she was proving to be a very fast learner.

“Well, how could I go wrong with such wonderful teachers?” she asked, smiling.

Matt traced circles on Rose’s back with his fingers, biting his lip as he considered whether or not to say what was in his heart. When Rose tilted his face up with one hand, Matt found them both watching him with concern.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I’m not sure if there’s a right or a wrong way to say this,” he said. “I just… I want you to know that…” He sighed, decided to just come out with it. “I love you both. Not that I’m _in_ love you,” he clarified. “That’s not it. But I feel a deep love for both of you and… well, what we do together means a great deal to me. I just needed you to know that.”

He held his breath, but he needn’t have worried. They smiled at him. Rose glanced over her shoulder and John nodded at her.

“You silly man,” she said, cupping his cheek. “Of _course_ we knew that. We love you, too. There’s no way I could give you so much of my heart during our scenes if I didn’t. You let me turn you inside out. You hand over your soul with no reservations. That is true devotion. I’d have to be stone-cold not to return love like that.”

“It’s what everyone wishes for, but few find,” said John. “I was lucky to find it with Rose.” He lifted their joined hands to his lips and Rose blushed. “We were both lucky to find it again with you. A different sort. But just because this love isn’t romantic in nature, that doesn’t make it any less deep or special.”

Matt blinked away the moisture in his eyes, not wanting to spoil the moment with more tears. “I guess I just never thought I’d have something like this. Not after… well, you know. The first time.”

They nodded and pulled him in closer, John wrapping his arms around both of them.

“I don’t think any of us expected this,” said Rose, her voice a little muffled from the center of the embrace. “But I’m so glad we found it.”

“Me too.”

“Me three.”

“What are you, twelve?”

“Eleven,” Matt said, as though it should be obvious. John just shook his head as Rose laughed.


End file.
